THE  LIBRARY 
OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 

OF  CALIFORNIA 

LOS  ANGELES 


LIFE  II  THE  WEST; 


OK. 


MISSISSIPPI  VALLEY. 


N.    C.    MEEKER, 

AGRICULTURAL     EDITOR     OF    THE     NEW    YORK     TRIBUNE. 


SAMUEL  K.  WELLS,  PUBLISHES, 

No.  389  BROADWAY. 

1868. 


Entered  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1868, 
BT  N.   C.  MEEKER, 

In  the  Clerk' a  Office  of  the  District  Court  of  the  United  Stat< 
for  the  Southern  District  of  New  York. 


PREFACE. 

ALONG  residence  in  the  Mississippi  Valley,  frequent 
journeys  through  its  whole  extent,  and  years  of  service 
as  the  Illinois  correspondent  of  the  New  York  TRIBUNE, 
have  furnished  the  materials  for  the  following  stories. 
Within  forty  years  a  country  has  been  developed  equal 
to  the  whole  of  Western  Europe ;  new  habits  and  customs 
prevail,  families  about  to  be  extinguished  have  received  new 
vigor,  and  the  lowly  have  been  exalted.  Innumerable  cities, 
towns  and  villages  have  arisen,  and  more  than  a  million  of 
highly  productive  farms  have  been  brought  into  cultiva- 
tion. Results  must  follow  which  will  be  different  from 
any  the  world  has  yet  seen,  because  wealth,  having  ceased 
to  descend  to  the  oldest  son,  is  divided  among  many.  In 
no  other  country  have  the  producers  been  able  to  keep  so 
much  wealth  from  the  grasp  of  the  idle  and  the  wicked,  and 
devote  it  to  the  education  of  their  children  and  to  making 
home  comfortable. 

One  language  is  spoken,  knowledge  and  industrious  habits 
are  universal,  and  the  religious  sentiment  guides.  A  soil 
of  remarkable  fertility,  a  climate  rich  in  sunshine  and 
showers,  give  abundance  of  food;  and  orchards  and  vine- 
yards abound.  Thousands  of  families,  by  their  own  in- 
dustry, have  created  beautiful  homes,  and  they  sit  at  tables 
spread  with  as  good,  with  as  varied  food,  as  any  king  can 

448131 


Vi  PREFACE. 

command  with  his  slaves  and  gold.  Did  the  shadow  of 
a  king  stretch  across  that  region,  the  red  man  and  his  game 
would  linger  still.  No  sentiment  is  stronger  than  a  love 
for  the  Union  founded  on  Freedom.  Were  it  possible  for 
the  nations  of  Europe  or  of  Asia  to  unite,  they  could  not 
become  as  wealthy,  as  intelligent  and  as  powerful  as  ours 
is  destined  to  become  with  its  centre  in  the  Mississippi 
Valley. 

From  our  new  conditions  we  have  new  ideas,  and  they 
will  impress  themselves  on  the  society  of  the  whole  of  the 
two  American  Continents.  What  this  impress  shall  be, 
may,  in  some  degree,  be  gathered  from  an  account  of  the 
labors  and  hopes,  from  the  disappointments  and  triumphs? 
and  from  the  sorrows  and  joys  in  families. 

In  the  Eastern  States  educated  persons  look  on  the  comic 
and  burlesque  exhibited  in  the  Western  character  as  an 
evidence  of  a  want  of  culture.  Difficulties  and  labors 
which  appal  the  refined,  in  the  West  have  been  overcome. 
During  the  hours  of  darkness  and  doubt  relaxation  was  a 
necessity ;  free  from  restraint,  and  unfettered  by  rules,  a 
cultivated  cheerfulness  ran  into  the  comic.  These  things 
had  their  origin  in  the  Atlantic  States,  and  they  are  new 

as  one's  children  are  new. 

N.  C.  M. 


CONTENTS. 


Page 
THE  OLD  AND  THE  NEW  ;  or,  the  Settlement  of  Michigan       .        7 

GOING  TO  DIE  ;  the  Effects  of  being  too  Successful  ...  20 

SERVING  Two  MASTERS  ;  or,  an  Ohio  River  Story    ...  27 

THE  STEAMBOAT  CAPTAIN  ;  or,  Life  on  the  Lower  Mississippi  48 

SHE  MISSISSIPPI  RIVER,  and  Plantation  Life   ....  79 
MARCHING  ON;  or,  Change  of  Opinion  during  the  "War  .        .115 

THE  WAT  AND  THE  WILL  ;  or,  "Missouri  and  Wisconsin  Life  128 
THE  NORTHERN  REFUGEE  ;  or,  a  Refined  Family  in  a  Rough 

Settlement 150 

PRAIRIE  LIFE  IN  EARLY  DATS  ;  or,  How  Settlements  Progress  169 
RUNNING  A  MACHINE  ;  or,  Results  of  Extensive  Fanning         .  222 
A  FORTUNATE  CALAMITY;  or,  Saved  from  Ruin  by  going  West  231 
TAKING  AN  APPRENTICE  ;  or,  Modern  Ideas  of  Family  Govern- 
ment        243 

GOING  TO  BE  A  MORMON  ;  or,  Life  on  the  Ohio  Western  Reserve  252 

THE  SHOEMAKER'S  STRIKE  ;  or,  the  Fortune  of  a  City  Mechanic  263 
HENRIETTA  ;  or,  from  Pennsylvania  to  the  West       .        .        .274 

THE  LITTLE  TURNPIKE  AND  THE  SEVEN  GARDENS         .        .  287 

FARMING  AND  LAW  :  or,  a  Lawyer  goes  West  ....  295 

THE  LANGUAGE  OF  CATTLE  —  How  to  Read  it         ...  306 

THE  EGYPTIAN  PREACHER  ;  or,  North  Carolina  Ideas       .        .  315 

THE  SHEPHERD  OF  SALISBURY  PLAIN  ;  or,  Hope  of  the  Poor  327 

A  DESCRIPTION  OF  THE  MISSISSIPPI  VALLEY  ....  339 
Western  Pennsylvania — West  Virginia  —  Ohio  —  Indiana  — 
Illinois  —  Wisconsin  —  Minnesota  —  Iowa  —  Missouri  — 
Kansas  —  Nebraska  —  Arkansas  —  Kentucky  —  Tennes- 
see —  Mississippi  —  Louisiana. 

LAND  OFFICES  —  Where  Located 360 


LIFE  IN  THE  WEST. 


THE  OLD  AND  THE  NEW. 

A  FEW  years  before  steamboats  began  to  run  on  Lake 
Erie,  there  was  a  great  emigration  from  New  York  and 
other  Eastern  States  to  Michigan.  The  first  boat  which  did 
much  was  the  Enterprise,  next  the  Superior,  and  then  the 
Henry  Clay.  They  ran  only  to  Detroit.  Chicago  was  a 
village  somewhere  across  the  country,  but  was  supposed  to 
be  too  far  away  ever  to  amount  to  much.  Now  and  then 
emigrants  ventured  on  sailing  vessels,  but  the  great  body 
went  by  land.  The  ridge  roads  along  the  south  shore  of  the 
lake  were  crowded  with  moving  wagons.  Ten  or  twenty 
could  be  seen  at  a  time ;  over  a  hundred,  sometimes  two 
hundred,  passed  in  a  day.  Besides  these  were  two-horse 
carriages,  in  which  rich  families  rode.  To  almost  every  wag- 
on a  cow  was  tied,  and  flocks  of  sheep  were  driven.  A  part 
of  every  family  walked,  for  the  wagons  were  well  loaded 
with  household  goods.  Some  were  on  horseback ;  then  there 
were  men  on  foot  not  belonging  to  any  of  the  teams  ;  they 
had  packs  on  their  backs,  and  were  going  to  look  at  the 
country.  Those  now  going  with  teams  had  been  out  the 
same  way.  Many  were  single  men. 

Among  these  was  a  young  man  of  the  name  of  Dean.  He 
was  scarcely  eighteen ;  tall,  rather  awkward ;  his  pantaloons 
were  too  short,  his  face  was  fresh,  somewhat  freckled ;  he 
had  an  intelligent  look  and  a  quick  way.  He  carried  an  ax, 
and  a  pack  made  of  tow  cloth ;  there  were  places  through 
which  he  put  his  arms,  a  strap  crossed  his  breast  and  made 
all  fast.  He,  too,  was  going  to  Michigan — going  to  stay. 

(7) 


8  LIFE   IN  THE   WEST. 

He  had  money  enough  to  take  him  through  if  he  bought 
lunch  for  dinner,  which  was  half  price.  All  he  was  worth 
was  with  him.  lln  some  way  he  expected  to  get  land. 
Every  day  he  walked  as  many  as  thirty  miles ;  when  he 
came  to  a  shady  brook  he  would  wash  his  feet  and  put 
beach  leaves  on  the  blisters,  and  then  hobble  on.  Those 
riding  on  horses  and  in  carriages,  and  who  were  in  a  hurry, 
kept  up  with  him ;  the  rest,  gradually,  were  left  behind. 

In  due  time  he  reached  the  part  of  the  State  he  was  going 
to,  and,  after  resting  a  little,  he  took  a  job  of  clearing  ten 
acres  of  land.  He  was  to  chop  every  stick,  log,  burn,  fence 
and  fit  for  the  plow,  for  ten  dollars  an  acre.  How  he  did 
work !  Then  was  his  time,  if  ever.  He  was  deciding 
whether  he  would  be  poor  or  rich.  The  timber  was  tall  and 
heavy,  but  he  stood  it  well.  Youth  bears  some  kinds  of 
grief  better  than  the  hardened  laborer.  Sometimes  he  had  a 
little  fun.  He  would  spend  the  best  part  of  a  day  in  chop- 
ping trees  almost  down,  and  so  that  one  would  fall  on  an- 
other. He  would  get  up  a  couple  of  hours  before  day,  and 
chop  off  the  last  tree.  Then  there  was  the  awfulest  crashing 
you  ever  heard.  It  was  thickly  settled,  though  it  was  in  the 
woods.  The  people  wondered  what  was  going  to  take  place. 
His  last  caper  was  to  cut  a  tree  here  and  there,  so  that  it  was 
likely  to  hang  an  hour  or  so ;  at  late  bed-time  he  would  go 
out  and  cut  one  tree,  when  a  crash  would  break  out,  and 
then  stop ;  by  the  time  folks  fairly  were  asleep  it  would 
break  out  again.  In  this  way  he  kept  it  up  all  night  long. 
When  a  man  grows  old  and  looks  back  on  his  youth,  if  he 
sees  nothing  worse  than  this,  he  does  not  wince  much. 
Often  he  will  shut  his  eyes  and  hasten  to  think  of  something 
else.  In  the  summer  Mr.  Dean  hired  out  to  work  on  a  farm. 
He  got  ten  dollars  a  month  and  his  board.  In  those  days 
money  was  everything  and  board  nothing ;  in  these,  board 
is  everything  and  money  nothing. 

Meantime,  when  he  got  leisure,  he  studied  arithmetic, 
grammar,  and  the  like.  The  next  winter  he  made  out  to  get 
a  certificate,  and  taught  school.  It  was  almost  like  clearing 


THE  OLD  AND  THE  NEW.  9 

land.  He  was  at  the  school-house  every  morning  before 
sunrise,  studying  to  keep  out  of  the  way  of  his  best  scholars. 
Once  or  twice  he  got  fast  with  a  sum,  and  said  he  was  so 
hurried  he  had  not  time  to  do  it  then ;  he  would  look  it  over 
after  school.  He  struggled  desperately  with  such  difficul- 
ties. At  last  he  got  ahead,  and  kept  ahead.  Afterwards, 
this  discipline  enabled  him  to  do  many  things. 

The  time  came  when  he  bought  land.  He  looked  around 
a  good  deal  first.  He  selected  the  first  quality,  and  in  a 
neighborhood  where  the  people  were  intelligent  and  enter- 
prising. A  part  of  his  farm  was  on  very  high  ground  ;  the 
rest  was  low  and  bordered  on  a  lake.  He  commenced  clear- 
ing on  the  high  ground ;  here  he  would  build ;  here  wheat 
and  corn  would  grow,  and  fruit  would  always  be  sure. 
Grass  would  be  heavy  on  the  low  ground,  and  in  dry  seasons 
corn  and  potatoes  would  be  heavy.  Between  the  high  and 
low,  was  a  sheltered  valley  of  seven  or  eight  acres  of  large 
hard-maples ;  this  would  be  his  sugar  camp. 

Then  he  married  a  pretty  girl.  The  girls  always  are  pret- 
ty. They  should  be  so  good  that  their  husbands  will  take 
no  notice  of  their  growing  old.  They  had  a  good  log-house 
to  live  in ;  there  was  a  log-barn,  a  yoke  of  cattle,  a  few  hogs, 
and  a  plenty  of  hens.  A  young  married  woman  tries  her  hand 
on  raising  chickens.  Hens  like  to  lay  in  a  log-barn.  You 
will  hear  their  uproar  early  in  the  morning. 

Money  was  very  scarce ;  neither  grain,  tallow,  sugar  nor 
honey  would  bring  it.  Potash  was  the  only  article  that 
would  fetch  money.  Mr.  Dean  built  an  ashery,  and  from  the 
ashes  of  his  clearing,  and  from  what  he  could  buy  of  his 
neighbors,  he  made  potash ;  it  was  called  black  salts.  In  this 
way  he  got  a  good  start. 

When  children  began  to  grow  in  Mr.  Dean's  house  he  be- 
came more  serious,  for  he  was  a  gay  young  man.  He  liked 
to  dance ;  he  could  drink  a  dram ;  he  was  the  life  at  all  log- 
rollings, raisings  and  huskings.  Near  by  was  a  flourishing 
church ;  he  attended  a  revival-meeting  and  experienced  reli- 
gion. A  man  who  has  a  family,  and  can  think,  will  see  the 


10  LIFE  IN  THE   WEST. 

necessity  for  morality  and  for  order.  He  will  consider  how 
wonderfully  man  is  made ;  he  sees  an  Intelligent  First  Cause. 
To  every  one  the  grave  and  the  future  are  near,  and  he  will 
ask  -what  it  is  to  be  wise.  He  sees,  too,  that  every  one  is 
sinful  and  weak,  and  that  sickness  and  pain  beset  our 
pathway. 

Mr.  Dean  became  a  worthy  member  of  the  church.  Fre- 
quently at  evening  meetings  he  would  give  short  exhorta- 
tions. He  spoke  rapidly  and  in  a  high  key ;  often  he  said 
some  things  quite  sensible.  He  could  make  a  warm  prayer. 
After  awhile,  people  began  to  like  to  hear  him.  It  seemed 
certain  that  when  he  should  get  more  age  he  would  become 
a  deacon. 

He  was  saving  and  industrious.  He  had  fair  crops  ;  his 
stock  increased.  People  had  to  confess  he  was  a  good 
farmer.  He  had  set  out  a  large  orchard.  The  rows  were  so 
long  one  scarcely  saw  the  end.  He  had  apples  almost  as 
soon  as  those  who  planted  earlier.  This  was  because  he 
cultivated  his  trees,  and  kept  off  insects.  He  said  a  fruit 
tree  is  worth  as  much  care  as  a  hill  of  corn.  This  given,  it 
will  thrive.  Who  would  think  of  raising  corn  in  a  meadow? 
He  kept  up  his  ashery ;  either  he  or  a  hired  man  was  running 
a  team  to  buy  ashes.  Twice  a  year  he  took  two  or  three  tons 
of  black  salts  to  Detroit. 

Almost  every  day  he  would  read  more  or  less.  If  dinner  was 
not  quite  ready  he  would  take  up  a  book.  In  his  exhortations 
he  showed  he  was  a  reading  man.  He  became  instructive. 
At  last,  folks  understood  he  intended  to  be  a  minister. 
One  might  have  known  this  from  the  books  he  bought. 
These  were  Clark's  Commentaries — I  do  not  say  what  edi- 
tion ;  Calmet's  Dictionary,  Mosheim,  and  like  large  works. 
This  was  quite  an  undertaking  for  a  man  thirty-five  years 
old,  with  a  family  growing  around  him  and  a  large  farm  to 
attend  to. ,  But  he  was  not  in  the  least  hurry.  His  farm 
work  and  ashery  went  on  the  same,  and  he  himself  labored 
as  before.  But  he  diligently  improved  all  spare  time  ;  a  farm 
life  gives  more  leisure  than  an  any  other  occupation,  and 


THE  OLD  AND  THE   NEW.  11 

when  he  was  at  work  it  was  plain  he  was  thinking  of  some- 
thing. Still  he  talked  as  freely  as  ever,  and  he  told  stories 
which  made  people  laugh. 

In  ten  or  twelve  years  Mr.  Dean  had  plenty  of  fruit,  and 
he  sold  much.  When  fruit  was  cut  off  on  low  grounds,  peo- 
ple came  from  a  distance  to  buy,  and  they  would  bring  corn  ; 
for  good  fruit,  it  was  bushel  for  bushel.  Then  he  had  a  cider 
mill.  One  going  by  heard  it  complaining  far  down  in  the 
orchard.  All  around  was  the  clear  sky ;  below,  lay  woods 
and  farms. 

Mr.  Dean  was  one  of  the  first  to  build  a  nice  house ;  it  was 
a  large  and  very  high  two-story  building,  with  kitchen  and 
wood-house  attached.  It  stood  on  the  highest  ground,  and 
was  in  plain  sight  from  many  distant  points — three,  five,  and 
even  ten  miles. 

His  boys  grew  up  to  be  strong  fellows.  They  worked 
faithfully.  They  were  well  behaved,  and  when  abroad,  were 
BO  sober  as  to  seem  like  young  deacons.  Of  course,  they  had 
their  play  and  fun,  but  they  were  under  strict  control.  Their 
father  had  made  them  ambitious  to  get  property  and  learn- 
ing. "When  boys  are  of  this  inclination  there  is  little  else 
one  can  wish  them  to  be.  Such  boys  will  have  rough  hands, 
full  faces  and  broad  shoulders.  They  do  not  feel  easy  in  gen- 
teel parties.  If  it  is  important  to  be  genteel,  it  will  not  take 
long  to  learn  to  be  so.  It  takes  longer  to  be  honest,  sincere 
and  loveable.  The  sisters  w ere  much  like  them.  They,  too, 
were  brought  up  to  work ;  they  made  their  own  clothes ; 
but  for  Sunday  they  had  calico  dresses.  In  these  days,  we 
think  it  hard  to  pay  twenty  cents  a  yard  for  calico.  It  was 
higher  then,  and  money  so  scarce  that  they  thought  as  much 
of  a  sixpence  as  we  do  of  a  dollar.  The  girls  enjoyed  them- 
selves much.  The  oldest  ones  had  beaux,  those  next  them 
expected  soon  to  have.  They  could  sing  some  songs  beside 
religious  ones  ;  you  could  hear  them  while  they  were  spin- 
ning, and  all  about  love.  They  had  apple-parings,  sleigh- 
rides  and  singing-schools.  On  the  whole,  theirs  was  a  highly 
prosperous  and  respectable  family.  There  was  no  haugh- 


12  LIFE  IN  THE  WEST. 

tiness ;  all  things  were  plain.  Of  their  plenty  they  bestowed, 
on  the  poor  first,  to  foreign  missions  next. 

At  last  the  time  came  when  Mr.  Dean  was  licensed  to 
preach,  and  he  filled  appointments  in  neighboring  townships, 
speaking  on  cold  winter  days  in  school  houses,  or  in  some 
farmer's  large  kitchen.  When  meeting  was  over  he  would 
start  for  home,  that  he  might  go  to  work  in  the  morning. 
When  he  spoke  in  the  evening,  and  he  had  ten  or  fifteen 
miles  to  go,  he  was  late ;  frequently  on  the  way  he  saw  a 
light  from  his  house ;  his  wife  was  up,  with  a  good  fire  burn- 
ing, and  something  on  the  hearth  to  eat.  There  were  few 
homes  so  pleasant  and  comfortable,  though  all  the  neighbors 
were  well  off. 

Mr.  Dean  did  not  promise  to  be  a  great  preacher ;  his  voice 
was  too  high  and  shrill.  He  was  liked  better  by  older  than 
by  young  persons,  for  his  views  were  too  practical,  and  he 
used  too  many  homely  arguments.  He  had  good  congrega- 
tions, but  there  was  not  the  least  excitement.  Some  laughed 
a  little  that  a  good  farmer  should  turn  to  be  a  poor  preacher; 
but  they  had  to  confess  he  knew  what  he  was  talking  about, 
and  that  they  had  heard  those  they  liked  less.  After  a  year 
or  so  it  was  noticed  that  he  improved ;  his  sermons  became 
more  lively,  for  he  mingled  anecdote ;  and  the  young  folks 
got  interested.  It  was  a  proud  day  for  Mr.  Dean,  for  his 
family  and  all  his  friends,  when  several  persons,  having 
become  converted  under  his  preaching,  united  with  the 
church. 

Upon  this  event  he  was  ordained  as  a  regular  minister, 
and  he  took  a  stand  among  the  clergy  as  their  equal.  He 
had  been  tried  and  found  to  be  a  useful  servant  of  the  cause. 
Some  said  if  he  had  been  a  poor  man  he  would  not  have  met 
with  this  honor.  They  did  not  think  that  the  ability  he  had 
exhibited  in  getting  property  enabled  him  to  be  an  instructive 
and  useful  minister. 

All  this  time  he  worked  on  the  farm.  He  usually  took 
most  of  Saturday  to  prepare  his  discourse ;  but  he  abated 
nothing  iu  agricultural  enterprise,  and  with  each  year  his 


THE   OLD   AXD   THE   NEW.  13 

farm  improved.  He  was  one  of  the  first  to  take  a  paper  on 
farming,  and  when  an  agricultural  society  was  started  in  the 
county  he  lent  it  his  hearty  support.  There  were  some 
views  advocated  by  scientific  men  Avhich  he  ridiculed,  and 
he  was  not  forward  in  adopting  new  methods  except  on 
a  limited  scale.  He  valued  his  experience  more  than  a 
scholar's  theory.  He  said  agricultural  societies  ought  to 
be  encouraged  for  the  healthful  influence  they  exert  on 
young  men. 

Up  to  this  time  the  condition  of  society  had  not  changed. 
In  many  respects  it  was  the  same  as  had  prevailed  in  all 
civilized  countries  from  the  time  the  Roman  Empire  was 
in  its  grandeur.  Our  generation  has  seen  more  important 
changes  than  any  other  generation  since  the  dawn  of  civili- 
zation. For  thirty  years  "we  have  been  dazzled  with  a 
constant  overturn  of  old  methods  and  ways.  In  the  midst 
of  the  whole,  we  have  been,  and  we  are,  guided  by  the 
principles  which  produced  the  Protestant  Reformation. 

Ministers  of  much  pretension  or  learning  had  worn  broad- 
cloth clothes,  and  now  it  was  becoming  common  for  the 
many  to  dress  almost  as  well;  goods  were  getting  cheap, 
and  the  women  dressed  fine.  Mr.  Dean  would  make  but 
few  changes.  In  winter  his  outer  garments  were  full-cloth, 
his  underclothes  red  flannel,  all  made  in  the  house.  Some- 
times he  wore  heavy  calfskin  boots ;  generally  he  had  cow- 
hide shoes,  tied  with  leather  strings.  The  most  he  would 
consent  to  adopt  was  a  silk  hat,  a  dickey — which  is  a  shirt- 
bosom  and  collar  with  strings  to  tie  it  around  the  neck  and 
waist, —  a  black  silk  cravat,  and  a  red  bandanna  handker- 
chief with  white  spots.  While  his  appearance  was  plain,  it 
was  neat  and  respectable. 

In  the  third  year  of  his  ministry  he  was  settled  as  the 
pastor  of  the  church  to  which  he  belonged.  This  was 
the  height  of  his  ambition,  and  for  this  he  had  labored. 
Thus  to  have  the  esteem  of  the  members  of  his  own  church 
was  an  applause  he  valued  most  among  earthly  honors.  He 
would  live  and  die  among  his  own  people.  Seldom  did 


14  LIFE  IN  THE  WEST. 

a  man  more  meekly  fill  the  pulpit ;  still  he  maintained  the 
dignity  of  his  calling.  The  young  folks  had  his  esteem ; 
even  the  children  lingered  ai-ound  him.  Through  his  in- 
fluence a  new  and  handsome  church  was  built,  and  the 
rocks  heard  the  sound  of  the  church-going  bell.  It  stood  on 
another  hill,  a  mile  and  a  half  from  his  house,  and  was  seen 
even  from  the  county  sea.t.  The  farms  all  around  were  well 
tilled,  the  farm  buildings  of  the  first  class;  and  orchards  were 
everywhere.  At  the  feet,  even  on  the  tops  of  the  hills, 
burst  springs  of  the  purest  water.  No  region  in  the  State 
is  more  thrifty  or  romantic. 

For  some  time  the  different  churches  of  this  denomination 
had  wanted  a  seminary  of  learning  conducted  in  their 
interest,  and  now  they  felt  able  to  build  and  endow  it. 
Several  places  strove  for  the  location,  but  it  was  to  be 
secured  by  the  one  which  could  give  most.  Mr.  Dean  was 
urged  by  his  church  to  use  his  influence  for  them;  but  he 
hesitated  long,  for  he  doubted  whether  it  would  be  for  their 
good.  At  last  he  was  persuaded,  and  he  himself  subscribed 
$500.  After  much  solicitation  from  men  of  all  classes,  he 
succeeded ;  the  school  was  to  be  in  their  midst. 

Immediately  work  commenced.  Over  fifty  men  were  con- 
stantly employed.  In  about  a  year  a  large  and  noble  building 
was  completed.  It  was  built  of  the  fine  stone  found  in  the 
hills.  It  stood  not  far  from  the  church ;  and  so  grand  was 
its  situation,  that  for  many  miles  the  people  on  farms  and  in 
villages  could  see  its  windows  blaze  in  the  morning  sun. 
Meanwhile,  several  houses  for  the  accommodation  of  board- 
ers and  the  professors  were  built,  mechanics  came  in,  stores 
were  established,  and  a  pleasant  new  village  arose. 

Then  the  students  appeared,  the  president  and  professors 
opened  their  classes,  and  the  school  was  in  operation.  For 
the  first  year  there  were  difficulties,  —  things  were  new, 
there  was  not  room ;  but  more  houses  were  built,  and  the 
second  year  opened  more  prosperously.  Clearly  the  plan 
was  successful,  and  members  of  the  denomination,  far  and 
near,  were  willing  and  proud  to  patronize  their  institution. 


THE   OLD   AND  THE  NEW.  15 

It  made  them  strong ;  it  "was  an  honor  to  the  county  and 
to  the  State. 

Mr.  Dean's  oldest  son  was  married  and  lived  in  the  house. 
His  wife  was  a  smart  and  intelligent  woman.  They  were 
an  exception  to  the  rule  that  two  i'amilies  cannot  live  under 
cue  roof.  Perhaps  the  best  reason  was  they  had  a  plenty 
of  everything.  But  the  young  folks  thought  it  their  duty  to 
appear  and  dress  as  well  as  their  neighbors.  The  Seminary 
had  brought  in  the  fashions ;  everybody  had  to  follow  them. 
Mr.  Dean  and  his  family  had  always  gone  to  meeting  in  the 
two-horse  Avagon; —  I  mistake;  when  the  country  was  new 
they  went  with  oxen.  Now  the  son  and  his  wife,  and  all 
the  children,  and  even  the  old  lady,  said  they  ought  to  have 
a  plain  carriage,  or  at  least  a  nice  buggy.  He  said  they 
might  do  as  they  pleased,  but  he  would  not  ride  in  it ;  he 
would  have  no  hand  in  such  vanity  and  extravagance.  A 
nice,  shining  two-horse  busfgy  was  bought;  —  true,  he  went 
along,  when  it  was  bought,  to  see  that  they  had  a  good  bar- 
gain ;  but  he  would  not  put  his  foot  in  it.  Then  the  family 
would  come  to  meeting  as  grand  as  could  be.  After  a  while 
he  would  appear  in  his  cow-hide  shoes,  with  the  Bible  and 
hymn-book  in  his  hands.  If  the  roads  were  muddy,  he 
would  ride  the  old  mare.  There  was  no  hard  feeling;  no 
one  heard  of  any  dispute,  although  there  were  hired  folks  in 
the  house. 

The  church  was  large,  and  all  the  students  could  get  in, 
but  it  was  full.  Sometimes  one  of  the  professors  would 
preach,  but  usually  Mr.  Dean  officiated.  He  did  his  best  to 
deliver  practical  and  interesting  sermons.  He  contrived 
generally  to  be  new;  his  illustrations  were  drawn  from 
every-day  life,  from  common  occurrences  in  families,  fre- 
quently from  newly  settled  countries.  He  delighted  to 
dwell  on  the  days  when  the  forest  was  all  around,  when 
game  was  plentiful,  and  when  all  the  neighbors,  being  upon 
one  level,  were  much  like  a  family.  He  seemed  to  regret  that 
the  old  days  were  gone.  But,  rising  from  these  thoughts,  he 
would  speak  of  the  duties  which  belong  to  all  conditions 


16  LIFE   IN   THE  WEST. 

of  society,  and  how  the  virtues  everywhere  may  flourish, 
and  lead  us  to  the  love  of  divine  things  and  to  immortal 
life. 

For  a  year  or  so  this  went  on  very  well.  But  at  last  there 
was  dissatisfaction.  A  party  rose  up  wanting  a  more  stylish 
preacher.  They  said  it  was  a  damage  to  the  Institution  that 
the  scholars  should  be  forced  to  listen  to  such  an  oldfashioned 
preacher.  Mr.  Dean  thought  there  was  some  justice  in  this 
complaint.  He  would  preach  in  the  forenoon,  one  of  the 
professors  should  preach  in  the  afternoon ;  in  this  way 
the  church  and  the  school  would  be  represented.  But  this 
did  not  satisfy  long.  Some  of  the  church-members,  seeking 
to  be  genteel,  said  it  was  scandalous  to  allow  a  man  so 
plainly  dressed  to  go  into  the  pulpit ;  it  was  not  showing 
proper  respect  for  the  house  of  worship.  They  wondered 
how  Mr.  Dean  had  the  assurance  to  go  up  into  the  pulpit, 
and  sit  down  by  the  well-dressed  professors,  in  his  cow-hide 
shoes  and  full-cloth  coat ;  he  was  as  big  as  any  of  them. 
Once,  when  he  was  preaching,  his  dickey  got  loose,  and 
they  had  a  peep  at  his  faded  red  flannel  shirt.  They  wished 
he  would  get  a  new  pocket  handkerchief;  he  had  used  that 
one  full  ten  years,  and  they  were  tired  of  it.  In  short,  they 
were  tired  of  him.  They  wanted  a  preacher  who  would  dress 
in  shining  clothes,  and  not  bid  defiance  to  custom ;  such  a 
one  could  be  more  useful.  Did  Mr.  Dean  mean  to  condemn 
the  professors  by  shaving  so  close  when  they  wore  such 
comely  whiskers  ?  They  knew  if  they  got  another  preacher 
they  would  have  to  pay,  but  they  were  willing,  they  did  not 
care.  It  seems  that  Mr.  Dean  would  take  only  $52  a  year: 
he  said  a  dollar  a  day  was  enough ;  if  they  felt  like  paying 
more,  they  might  give  it  to  the  poor. 

Mr.  Dean  had  nothing  to  say.  If  the  church  did  not  want 
him  she  must  say  so ;  he  would  not  resign.  He  had  one 
great  advantage, —  perhaps  no  one  knew  why  it  was,  except 
himself:  his  sermons  were  more  satisfactory  to  many  than 
the  professors'.  He  had  taken  great  pains,  in  forming  a  clear 
and  simple  style.  It  was  clear  English.  The  professors  used 


THE   OLD   AND   THE  NEW.  17 

high-sounding  words  ;  their  sentences,  sometimes,  were  con- 
fused, and  the  thoughts  were  separated  much  as  they  are  in 
Latin.  People  had  seen  Mr.  Dean,  as  he  sat  behind  them 
when  they  were  preaching,  faintly  and  shrewdly  smile. 
But  this  was  of  no  consequence  to  those  who  favored  new 
things.  Perhaps  Mr.  Dean  preached  well  enough;  but  one 
must  keep  up  with  the  changes  in  society, — not  to  do  so, 
is  to  fight  against  progress  and  light.  They  wanted  no 
preacher  who  would  tell  them  about  burning  log-heaps,  and 
that  the  perfume  of  the  fields  and  woods  is  more  pleasant 
than  the  choicest  extracts.  He  had  been  useful  in  his  day ; 
that  day  was  past.  There  were  places  where  he  was  need- 
ed ;  it  was  in  the  back  townships.  They  would  give  some- 
thing to  sustain  those  weak  churches  if  he  would  preach  for 
them. 

Mr.  Dean's  family  saw  the  storm  coming.  They  were 
proud  of  him.  They  were  not  certain  he  was  wrong,  but 
they  urged  him  for  their  sake  to  conform  to  the  wishes 
of  the  church  ;  the  Old  was  pleasant,  but  he  could  not  keep 
back  the  New.  His  only  reply  was  by  whistling  an  old 
psalm-tune  in  a  sort  of  whisper,  which  was  his  way  when  he 
would  not  contend. 

At  such  times  he  would  go  off  to  work  by  himself  at 
clearing  land.  Every  year  he  cleared  half  an  acre  of  land 
for  turnips.  He  was  not  able  to  work  as  well  as  formerly ; 
but  here  he  would  work, —  chopping,  piling  brush,  and  burn- 
ing log-heaps.  He  said  he  took  more  comfort  in  his  clearing 
than  in  the  most  refined  society. 

Every  spring  he  made  sugar.  He  had  everything  pre- 
pared :  there  was  a  house  where  he  boiled  ;  the  sap  ran  into 
sheet-iron  pans  through  a  pipe  from  large  troughs,  he  had 
pine  buckets  for  catching  the  sap, — these  were  stored  in  the 
boiling-house  through  the  rest  of  the  year ;  and  here  he  had 
wood  prepared,  dry  and  fine.  It  was  a  pleasure  to  him 
to  have  the  young  folks  come  and  see  him  when  he  was 
boiling ;  he  would  always  take  some  syrup  and  sugar  off. 

The  students  of  the  Seminary  were  invited,  and  they  came 


18  LIFE  IN  THE  WEST. 

in  crowds,  every  lady  with  her  beau.  They  would  not  eat 
much ;  for  the  girls  thought  they  ought  not  to  —  there 
\vere  so  many  of  them, —  and  the  young  men  mostly  desired 
another  kind  of  sweet.  He  would  tell  them  laughable  sto- 
ries, often  with  a  deep  meaning  which  they  did  not  under- 
stand till  years  were  passed.  Then  they  had  to  stop  at  the 
house  and  get  apples.  The  girls  looked  on  him  with  a  sort 
of  wonder;  some  even  wished  they  could  get  such  a  husband. 

Mr.  Dean's  second  son  was  studying  to  be  a  minister. 
Every  winter  forty  or  fifty  students  would  teach  school. 
This  young  man  went  with  the  rest  to  the  county  seat  to  be 
examined.  Almost  all  got  certificates;  he  failed.  Really, 
he  was  the  best  scholar  of  them  all,  but  he  was  embarrassed 
by  some  unusual  question,  and  by  a  bluff  manner.  There  were 
girls  in  ribbons  and  flaring  dresses  who  knew  little,  but 
succeeded ;  they  were  supposed  competent  and  but  few 
questions  were  asked.  This  mortified  the  family.  The  father 
could  see  now  what  it  was  to  keep  children  in  the  back- 
ground. He  said  it  would  come  all  right,  for  everything 
everywhere  will  find  its  true  level  This  proved  true,  to  tell 
how  requires  another  narrative. 

At  last  the  storm  which  long  had  threatened,  broke  out. 
The  deacons  came  to  talk  with  him ;  there  was  great  dissat- 
isfaction ;  a  meeting  of  the  church  was  demanded.  Such  and 
such  ones  were  determined  to  have  a  new  minister ;  they 
•wanted  one  of  the  Professors.  He  said  he  would  not  talk 
on  the  subject;  let  the  church  meet  and  decide,  it  was  the 
only  way.  On  this  they  departed.  His  family  could  see 
that  he  felt  bad  ;  his  wife  could  tell  much.  Old  times  and 
old  manners  were  changed  and  gone,  and  a  stranger  was 
ready  to  fill  the  throne. 

On  Sunday  he  preached  from  this  text — "  Finally,  brethren, 
farewell ;  be  perfect,  be  of  good  comfort,  be  of  one  mind, 
live  in  peace,  and  the  God  of  love  and  peace  shall  be  with 
you."  His  sermon  interested  all.  It  was  the  last  time  they 
were  likely  to  hear  him.  He  spoke  of  the  early  days  of  the 
church,  of  her  trials  and  rejoicings.  He  referred  to  old 


THE   OLD   AND   THE  NEW.  19 

members  who  started  with  them — their  bodies  were  in  the 
churchyard,  their  souls  with  the  saints.  New  families  had 
been  established  and  had  grown  up  in  their  midst,  they  had 
prospered  in  all  their  undertakings.  There  was  no  bitter- 
ness in  his  sermon,  and  no  reference  to  his  situation  except 
in  his  text,  and  this  he  repeated  as  he  closed. 

The  next  day  the  church  met ;  the  whole  township  was  in 
a  ferment.  The  friends  of  the  new  order  were  certain  of 
success.  It  was  not  known  who  Mr.  Dean's  friends  were. 
There  were  two  or  three  to  be  sure,  but  they  were  abrupt 
and  hasty  old  men  who  had  little  influence.  The  truth 
was,  most  of  the  members  had  not  expressed  an  opinion, 
they  were  afraid  of  offending  Mr.  Dean  or  the  Seminary. 
It  was  not  known  that  any,  except  the  few,  had  said  a  single 
word  in  his  favor.  This  made  his  case  look  very  dark.  At 
last  they  put  to  vote  this  question :  whether  it  was  advis- 
able to  change  their  pastor  ?  There  were  about  three  hun- 
dred votes,  and  fifty  of  them  were  advanced  scholars,  young 
gentlemen  and  ladies  who  had  united  with  the  church. 
There  was  profound  silence  and  great  anxiety.  When  the 
votes  were  counted  it  was  found  that  about  seven-eights 
were  opposed  to  a  change. 

Of  course  the  old-fashioned  folks  had  to  rejoice  a  little. 
Then  they  were  asked  why  they  voted  as  they  did.  They 
were  ready  with  an  answer.  They  wanted  a  minister  they 
could  understand.  The  affair  ended  in  good  humor.  The 
Seminary  continues  to  prosper.  Great  attention  is  paid  to 
the  study  of  the  English  language.  I  would  advise  you,  if 
you  go  into  those  parts,  to  stop  over  Sunday  and  hear  Mr. 
Dean  preach. 


GOING  TO  DIE. 

JAMES  C ARR  was  a  most  promising  young  man.  He 
had  a  good  common-school  education.  When  seventeen 
years  old  he  taught  school ;  he  was  liked,  he  taught  every 
wintsr;  the  rest  of  the  year  he  helped  his  father  on  the 
farm.  All  the  money  he  got  he  put  out  at  interest.  When 
twenty-one  he  had  several  hundred  dollars.  With  this  he 
bought  a  farm  of  a  man  who  had  settled  it,  but  made  little 
headway.  At  once,  James  cleared  more  land,  planted  an 
orchard,  built  good  fences,  and  made  things  shine.  The 
reason  why  he  got  along  so  well  was,  he  did  not  expect  to 
do  great  things.  To  get  a  farm  was  his  highest  ambition. 
His  father  could  not  help  him.  One  winter  he  had  taught 
school  in  an  English  neighbourhood,  and  he  learned  how 
profitable  it  is  to  keep  sheep,  and  that  the  best  way  to  keep 
them  is  to  raise  ruta  baga  turnips  and  other  roots.  He 
built  axlarge  barn,  with  a  stone  basement,  in  which  was  a 
cellar  where  he  kept  his  turnips. 

All  this  was  done  before  he  had  a  wife,  but  while  he  was 
looking  for  one.  The  girls  watched  him.  Almost  every 
one  was  ready  to  step  out  should  he  ask  her.  At  last  it  was 
seen  that  Rhoda  Miller  was  the  happy  girl.  Her  parents 
were  good  farmers ;  the  rest  of  her  sisters  were  married  off. 
She  lingered,  enjoying  herself,  dressing  neatly,  engaged  a 
part  of  the  time  in  making  clothing  for  the  heathen,  and 
part  of  the  time  making  clothing  for  the  family  she  expected 
to  have.  Another  part  of  the  time  she  visited  and  went  to 
great  doings  with  her  beaux.  She  had  flannel  and  linen 
(20) 


GOING  TO   DIE.  21 

sheets,  towels,  tablecloths,  and  the  like.  Her  father  fur- 
nished the  flax  and  the  wool ;  she  took  her  own  way  and 
time.  Of  course  this  was  at  an  early  day.  The  country 
was  new.  The  only  kind  of  sugar  was  maple  sugar.  The 
whole  settlement,  for  miles  around,  was  composed  of  pious 
families,  and  one  who  did  not  belong  to  the  church  was 
little  esteemed. 

When  James  got  Rhoda's  consent,  he  consulted  with  her 
about  the  house,  and  they  united  upon  a  plan.  It  was  not 
large,  it  was  convenient,  and  so  arranged  that  an  addition 
could  be  put  to  it.  They  did  not  know,  but  thought  it  not 
improbable,  they  might  want  considerable  room.  The  size 
of  the  parlor  was  fixed  by  the  length  of  the  carpet  she  had 
in  the  loom.  When  the  house  was  finished  they  were 
married,  and  moved  into  it. 

Mr.  Carr  proved  to  be  a  good  husband.  He  seldom 
scolded,  or  spoke  in  any  other  than  a  low,  it  was  a  decided, 
tone.  He  was  not  much  given  to  talking  at  all.  He  had 
one  bad  habit.  At  night,  when  all  work  was  done,  he 
smoked  his  pipe.  Sometimes  his  wife  asked  him  why  he 
did  not  talk  more.  He  asked  her  what  he  should  say. 
Often,  on  looking  up  from  her  work,  she  saw  him  gazing  on 
her  with  a  smile.  He  was  a  smiling,  industrious,  persever- 
ing man.  Morning  and  evening  they  had  family  worship. 
No  matter  what  the  weather  was  they  went  to  meeting  on 
Sunday.  Mrs.  Carr  was  a  good  housekeeper.  Everything 
was  neat,  no  one  had  better  bread,  better  sweet-cake,  or 
richer  minced  pies.  Her  parlor  was  almost  elegant ;  in  the 
bed-room  adjoining  was  the  nice  spare  bed.  She  cultivated 
some  flowers,  and  her  roses  and  grass  pinks  were  very  fine. 

Of  course  they  prospered.  They  had  a  good  start.  How 
different  is  the  lot  of  the  many  who  spend  the  greater  part 
of  their  lives  in  attaining  what  this  couple  at  first  possessed. 
Mr.  Carr  was  respected.  Almost  without  opposition  he 
was  elected  to  fill  important  township  offices.  He  was 
known  by  many  ten  and  twenty  miles  distant.  He  was  on 
Grand  Juries;  he  settled  estates.  He  had  run  some  in  debt 


22  LIFE  IN  THE  WEST. 

for  more  land,  he  paid  for  it  in  wool.  If  wool  was  cheap 
so  was  land.  It  was  a  good  place  to  go  visiting.  Book 
agents  and  pedlars  always  put  up  with  them.  If  anybody 
had  apples  some  could  be  found  in  his  cellar ;  they  were  not 
seedlings,  but  choice  fruit,  Rhode  Island  Greenings,  Nor- 
thern Spys,  and  Golden  Russets.  When  they  went  to  meet- 
ing no  one  had  better  horses.  Their  clothes  were  rich,  still 
were  plain.  All  the  women  and  girls  had  to  come  and  look 
at  Mrs.  Carr's  baby.  No  baby  ever  was  so  pretty ;  how 
nice  was  its  hood,  its  mantle,  and  all  its  clothes,  and  the 
rest  of  her  children  looked  so  good  and  smart.  It  was  a 
wonder  too  that  she  held  her  own  so  well ;  she  was  as  fresh 
as  when  she  was  married.  But  she  had  such  a  nice  home, 
and  her  husband  was  so  kind. 

When  there  is  a  large  farm,  and  when  new  children  fre- 
quently come  into  a  family,  there  is  much  work  to  do ;  it 
cannot  be  avoided.  The  cooking  alone  may  occupy  the 
most  of  one's  time.  Often  the  style  of  cooking  is  such  as  to 
lay  the  foundation  of  disease  in  every  member  of  the  family. 
Some  of  us  are  apt  to  talk  on  this  subject  quite  as  much  as 
we  know.  There  is  little  difference  in  all  families.  Care, 
laboi*,  and  decay  come  to  all. 

About  fifteen  years  after  their  marriage  people  noticed 
that  Mrs.  Carr  grew  feeble.  She  became  pale,  and  had  a 
pinched,  small  look.  Scarcely  a  bloom  was  left  on  her 
cheek.  Several  Sundays  passed  and  she  did  not  come  to 
meeting.  At  last  she  came  only  when  the  weather  was  very 
fine ;  but  her  husband  and  the  children  would  come.  The 
women  noticed  that  though  their  clothes  were  clean,  they 
looked  less  neat ;  his  shirt  bosom  was  frayed,  his  black  neck 
handkerchief  was  carelessly  tied,  and  his  hair  was  too  long. 

Mrs.  Carr  seemed  to  be  breaking  down,  and  yet  she  was 
in  the  prime  of  life.  She  had  a  constant  pain  in  her  side ; 
she  thought  the  liver  was  affected,  and  at  times,  on  rising 
from  her  chair,  she  almost  stumbled  she  had  so  little  strength 
in  her  feet.  After  this  she  began  to  cough,  and  she  spit  up 
so  much  that  it  seemed  clear  she  was  going  into  consump- 


GOIXG  TO   DIE.  23 

tion.  The  doctor  was  called,  but  the  medicine  he  gave  was 
so  harsh,  and  it  so  much  distressed  her,  she  could  not  take 
it.  Still  she  was  around  and  kept  doing.  She  said  it  seemed 
to  her  she  would  die  if  she  stopped  working.  She  coul  dnot 
do  much,  and  though  there  was  hired  help  her  active  labors 
were  missed. 

She  grew  worse.  Her  cough  so  increased  that  during  the 
latter  part  of  the  night  she  could  get  no  sleep.  Her  eyes 
sank  and  grew  lustrous ;  her  cheeks  fell  in  and  she  wasted 
away.  She  often  enquired  of  herself  if  her  mortal  frame 
must  decay,  if  her  limbs,  then  able  to  move,  must  moulder 
in  the  ground. 

Every  one  saw  that  she  was  Going  to  Die.  But  a  cele- 
brated doctor  was  sent  for.  On  attempting  to  take  his 
medicine  she  was  thrown  into  spasms  and  they  thought  her 
dying.  She  rallied  a  little.  The  doctor  said  she  was  past 
help,  and  he  prescribed  palliatives  to  smooth  her  passage 
to  the  better  world.  Thus  she  lingered,  not  expecting  to 
live  a  week,  certainly  not  a  month,  and  yet  several  months 
passed.  Her  cough  remained  the  same,  but  she  grew  weaker 
and  poorer,  and  her  husband  easily  lifted  her  in  his  arms. 

During  this  time  Mr.  Carr  thought  much  of  the  future, 
and  he  considered  what  could  be  done  for  the  small  children 
soon  to  be  motherless.  Other  things  were  presented ;  how 
could  he  keep  house,  how  maintain  his  standing  in  society, 
and  how  preserve  his  property  from  waste.  Clearly  he 
must  marry  again  ;  but  whom  should  he  marry  ?  He  was 
well  off,  he  ought  to  have  a  woman  both  well-informed  and 
rich.  He  tried  to  throw  off  such  thoughts,  but  he  suffered 
them  to  return.  He  knew  one  or  two  women  in  particular, 
but  he  wished  them  richer.  He  had  some  friends  in  a  city, 
certainly,  they  would  recommend  him  to  a  rich  wife.  But 
would  she  be  willing  to  live  on  a  farm  ?  O,  but  he  would 
use  her  well.  She  need  not  work,  he  would  build  a  fine 
house,  they  would  visit  in  the  best  families,  his  children 
would  not  trouble  her  much,  but  she  would  be  so  good  that 
she  would  gladly  take  care  of  the  little  ones  for  the  sake  of 


24  LIFE  IN   THE  WEST. 

the  dear  one  gone.  The  older  ones  should  have  land  or  go 
away  to  school,  for  there  would  be  money  enough.  Being 
rich,  this  new  wife  would  be  handsome,  very  handsome. 
She  would  have  earrings,  bright  finger-rings,  her  hands 
would  be  white  and  her  step  light.  He  confessed  to  him- 
self this  was  foolish  and  wicked  thinking ;  but,  did  he  not 
deserve  so  much  ?  He  was  some  body. 

Once  he  asked  the  doctor  how  long  he  thought  Mrs.  Carr 
would  live.  He  had  it  in  his  mind  to  get  saw  logs  while 
there  was  snow,  that  he  might  build  a  new  house  for  the 
new  rich  wife.  Sometimes  he  looked  at  her,  considering 
she  would  soon  pass  away,  and  he  said  to  himself:  she  had 
been  a  most  faithful,  loving  wife,  through  many  labors  and 
trials  she  had  been  true  as  steel ;  her  memory  always  should 
be  held  dear,  and  when  she  died  there  would  be  no  tomb- 
stone in  the  churchyard  so  beautiful  and  costly  as  the  one 
he  would  place  over  her  grave.  He  would  teach  all  the 
children  to  cherish  her  memory.  The  girls  should  have  all 
her  things.  Should  he  get  a  rich  wife  she  should  not  have 
a  towel. 

At  this  time  there  was  an  epidemic,  or  plague,  in  the 
country;  it  had  come  up  from  the  interior.  Few  recovered. 
If  they  did,  they  were  long  in  getting  well,  for  a  complica- 
tion of  disorders  ensued.  After  being  heard  of  in  various 
townships  it  came  into  the  one  where  Mr.  Carr  lived.  It 
was  as  fatal  as  the  cholera,  and  it  traveled  from  place  to 
place.  It  was  so  new,  or  so  malignant,  that  the  doctors 
were  unprepared  with  any  remedy.  In  this  State  it  was  so 
fatal  that  to  this  day  gaps  in  families  show  its  ravages. 

One  Sunday  morning  Mr.  Carr  came  in  from  feeding  the 
cattle.  The  weather  was  very  cold,  even  for  that  cold  coun- 
try. He  felt  strangely,  and  he  wondered  whether  he  was 
not  going  to  have  the  plague.  In  less  than  an  hour  he 
had  it. 

The  doctor  who  was  having  most  success,  if  it  was  suc- 
cess, was  sent  for.  The  case  was  a  bad  one.  The  sores 
which  broke  out  under  the  arm  were  uncommonly  red,  but 


GOIXG   TO   DIE.  25 

two  things  were  favorable :  he  did  not  froth  at  the  mouth 
quite  so  much  as  some,  and  instead  of  seven  carbuncles  on 
his  back,  only  five  came.  The  fits  of  cramping  were  as  vio- 
lent as  in  other  cases. 

A  part  of  the  time  he  knew  what  was  going  on,  but  whea 
his  senses  left  him  the  doctor  and  the  nurses  kept  out  every 
member  of  the  family.  The  plague  lasted  exactly  seven 
days,  when  the  patient  usually  died.  When  this  time  was 
up  Mr.  Carr  came  to.  He  was  aroused  by  the  tolling  of  the 
bell.  Sometimes  there  were  six  funerals  in  a  day,  and  it 
was  hard  work  to  dig  the  graves,  the  ground  was  frozen  so 
deep. 

When  the  doctor  came  he  saw  Mr.  Carr  was  likely  to  get 
well,  for  all  the  carbuncles  were  running.  The  truth  was, 
the  violence  of  the  plague  was  abating.  His  was  one  of  the 
best  cases.  None  of  his  family  took  it.  It  is  not  known 
that  the  doctors  cured  a  single  one. 

Still,  Mr.  Carr  was  likely  to  die.  The  disease  assumed  a 
typhoid  character  of  the  most  malignant  type.  There  were 
symptoms  of  other  diseases.  Above  all,  his  lungs  were  dis- 
ordered. There  was  danger  of  his  dying  of  suffocation. 
Trusty  nurses  and  the  utmost  care  were  required. 

When  he  was  taken  sick  Mrs.  Carr  first  thought  of  what 
would  become  of  the  children,  for  they  would  soon  be  made 
orphans.  When  she  was  told  how  much  her  husband  suf- 
fered she  was  anxious  to  help  him.  She  could  walk  a  little; 
those  having  the  consumption  walk  almost  to  the  last.  She 
could  do  some  little  things — prepare  gruel  and  tea,  and 
select  and  warm  his  underclothing  when  a  change  was  re- 
quired. These  efforts,  instead  of  weakening,  seemed  to 
strengthen  her.  When  it  was  proper  the  doctor  permitted 
her  to  see  him,  and  she  smoothed  his  brow  and  encouraged 
him.  Then  he  would  gaze  upon  her  with  a  sorrowful  look 
and  burst  into  tears.  The  distress  of  his  mind  seemed 
greater  than  that  of  his  body,  and  frequently,  with  wild 
exclamations,  he  would  enquire  if  he  could  be  forgiven. 

When  he  was  out  of  immediate  danger  she  was  so  en- 
2 


26  LIFE   IN   THE  WEST. 

couraged  that  a  slight  color  came  to  her  cheek,  and  when 
the  doctor  urged  the  importance  of  good  nursing,  she  in- 
sisted on  doing  something.  He  was  astonished  at  her  im- 
provement, when  he  called  to  mind,  from  his  books,  the 
statement  that  the  vims  of  plagues,  and  even  of  epidemics, 
has  been  known  to  effect  the  cure  of  certain  chronic  diseases. 
This  led  him  to  conclude  that  her  disease  was  not  the  true 
phthisis,  but  one  of  general  debility,  arising  from  over-doing, 
united  with  a  loss  of  mental  energy,  so  common  with  people 
who,  being  well  off,  have  no  fear  of  the  future  and  no  prize 
to  gain.  In  such  cases,  regular  and  prolonged  horseback 
exercise  is  most  beneficial. 

For  many  long  weeks  did  Mr.  Carr  lie,  as  if  every  day 
Going  to  Die.  Finally,  he  got  well.  He  often  repeats  that 
he  owes  his  life  to  his  wife's  tenderness  and  care.  She  was 
much  restored.  The  doctor  advised  him  to  take  her  on  a 
journey.  He  also  gave  him  some  other  advice,  which  was 
very  good.  Mr.  Carr  followed  it,  and  she  became  a  hearty 
woman. 

Several  years  have  passed ;  Mr.  Carr  and  his  wife  still 
live.  Before  he  was  taken  sick  he  treated  her  very  well ;  it 
is  impossible  to  describe  how  tenderly  he  regards  her  now. 
Her  cheeks  have  that  intense,  healthful  red  so  common 
among  many  English  people. 


SERVING   TWO   MASTERS. 

SOME  think  the  scenery  on  the  Hudson  the  finest 
in  America ;  others  that  it  is  too  wild,  and  that  the 
views  on  the  Ohio  River  between  Cincinnati  and  Louisville 
are  grander.  The  prospect  is  wider.  The  same  may  be  said 
of  another  part  of  this  river,  between  Evansville  and  Padu- 
cah.  In  one  place  the  hills  gradually  rise  above  each  other 
to  a  great  height,  while  the  land  is  level  enough  to  make 
good  farms.  These  farms  adjoin,  and  rise  above  the  ones 
fronting  them,  and  make,  either  from  them,  or  from  the 
river,  a  beautiful  prospect. 

Here  so  many  families  have  come  from  Ohio  that  it  is 
called  the  Ohio  Settlement.  The  neatness  and  order  of  the 
buildings,  the  numerous  orchards,  and  the  conspicuous 
school-houses,  remind  one  of  many  scenes  in  that  great 
Central  State.  The  useful  and  the  domestic,  when  united 
with  the  lofty  and  the  wide,  makes  the  finest  scenery. 

Twenty-five  years  ago  Mr.  Welch  came  hither,  and  located 
a  farm,  which,  when  the  timber  was  cut  away,  proved  to  be 
most  sightly  and  desirable.  The  river,  three  miles  distant, 
seems  on  the  side  of  an  inclined  valley ;  and  yet  it  is  so  far 
below  that  eagles  and  other  birds  of  prey,  when  coming  up 
with  fish  in  their  mouths,  have  a  weary  flight.  The  limestone 
soil  is  of  such  fertility  that  to-day  it  yields  fair  crops  of  corn 
without  manuring ;  while  for  some  kinds  of  apples,  such  as 
the  New-York  Pippin  or  the  North-Carolina  Red,  it  has 
proved  exceedingly  valuable.  The  kind  of  white  winter 
wheat,  so  justly  esteemed  in  the  Boston  market,  grows  here 
as  if  on  its  native  soil ;  when  pains  are  taken  with  the  seed, 

(27) 


28  FIFE   IN  THE  WEST. 

and  other  conditions  are  observed,  it  is  seen  as  thick  as 
wheat  can  grow  in  this  climate,  while  nothing  else,  except 
young  clover,  springs  through  the  small  pieces  of  decaying 
limestone. 

Mr.  Welch  was  an  intelligent  and  industrious  farmer. 
Having  only  two  children,  a  son  and  a  daughter,  he  educated 
them,  built  a  good  house,  and  in  the  decline  of  his  life  enjoyed 
the  fruit  of  his  labors.  He  had  only  one  trouble, —  his  son 
Alfred  did  not  like  to  live  at  home,  and  he  became  a  pilot 
on  the  river.  To  fill  this  station  with  credit,  he  applied 
himself  for  several  years  with  such  diligence  that  he  became 
expert.  Very  few  Northern  people  are  aware  of  the  great 
length  of  time,  the  study,  the  reflection,  and  the  memory, 
required  to  become  a  pilot  on  these  waters.  To  learn  the 
rocks,  chains  and  channels  in  the  Ohio  is  not  diflicult ;  but 
when  sand-bars  are  forming,  one  must  watch  their  course 
and  progress.  The  Mississippi  is  quite  different.  Here,  for 
hundreds  of  miles,  the  shores  are  so  similar  to  each  other, 
and  the  natural  landmarks  are  so  few,  that  frequently  the 
pilots  are  puzzled  to  tell  a  pupil  what  they  know.  For  in- 
stance,—  they  steer  for  a  certain  tree  with  a  limb  pointing 
east  or  west,  then  for  a  cabin,  a  house,  an  old  chimney,  or  a 
black  stub;  then,  such  a  distance  from  the  bank,  till  they  come 
within  so  many  rods  of  the  head  of  an  island.  Meanwhile 
the  current  is  so  strong,  and  the  soil  so  loose,  that  the  chan- 
nel is  constantly  shifting,  when  the  pilot  is  to  be  guided  by 
the  color  of  the  water  and  the  throwing  of  the  lead.  When 
it  is  considered  that  such  are  all  the  guides,  even  when  the 
night  is  stormy  and  dark,  it  will  be  seen  how  much  is 
required  to  fill  this  responsible  post. 

The  wages  a  pilot  receives  is  large.  Formerly  it  was 
from  $150  to  $200  a  month;  recently,  during  the  war,  on 
first-class  boats  it  was  often  as  much  as  $500  a  month. 

Alfred  used  to  run  on  the  river  about  nine  months  in  a 
year;  during  the  hot  months  he  would  stay  at  home,  enjoy- 
ing himself  on  the  farm.  He  would  work  in  the  cool  of  the 
day,  and  for  the  rest  of  the  time  would  loiter  about,  dressed 


SERVING  TWO   MASTERS.  29 

in  thin  clothes  of  the  finest  material.  But  in  harvest  he 
worked  long  and  late.  He  would  allow  no  one  else  to  put 
a  cradle  into  the  wheat,  and  in  this  he  took  especial  pride. 
Then  he  would  spend  long  hours  in  trying  to  read,  or  in 
sleeping,  in  a  cool  place — oftenest  under  trees  by  the  spring- 
house,  where  the  air  is  fully  20  deg.  cooler  than  elsewhere, 
and  so  cool  that  neither  flies  nor  mosquitoes  can  live  in  it. 
Of  course  he  had  to  ride  every  day  in  his  buggy  or  on  a  horse 
down  to  the  landing,  to  get  a  paper  and  to  chat  with  the 
officers  of  the  packet. 

He  was  a  man  of  the  fewest  words.  Once  he  used  to  talk; 
but  the  girl  he  was  going  to  marry  died, — afterwards  he 
seldom  smiled.  He  mixed  but  little  in  society,  and  he  was 
passing  through  life  as  if  he  took  little  interest  in  it.  His 
father  and  mother  kept  the  house  and  the  farm  in  order, 
while  their  daughter  Ellen  went  and  came  as  she  pleased ; 
but  never  was  a  girl  more  dutiful  or  careful,  or  more  inter- 
ested in  her  family. 

The  landing  is  a  very  small  village,  for  the  rocks  so  en- 
croach upon  the  river  that  there  is  not  room  for  many 
houses.  There  are  two  stores,  a  grist-mill,  and  several 
machine-shops.  The  native  black-walnut,  butternut,  and 
ash, —  having  been  left  standing,  while  the  tops  have  been 
cut  out  so  that  there  may  be  no  danger  by  their  falling, — 
hide  most  of  the  houses  from  the  passing  steamers.  An 
abundance  of  springs  burst  out  of  the  rocks.  For  a  place  of 
the  size,  there  is  much  business  done ;  for  the  two  roads 
coming  hither  are  good,  and  the  adjoining  settlements  are 
composed  of  thrifty  fanners.  The  chief  articles  exported 
are  wheat,  fruit,  lime,  and  flour. 

Aleck  Campbell,  who  used  to  go  to  school  with  Alfred, 
was  his  friend.  Pie  kept  a  store  and  the  post-office.  Aleck 
was  a  young  man  about  twenty-four,  tolerably  well  off, 
anxious  to  be  rich  ;  and  he  had  a  happy  faculty  of  pleasing 
all  classes,  by  which  means  he  drew  much  custom  from  the 
other  store,  particularly  as  he  had  the  post-office  to  help  him, 
which  he  attended  to  faithfully. 


30  LIFE   IN   THE   WEST. 

It  was  a  high  ambition  with  Aleck  Campbell  to  get  Al- 
fred's sister  Ellen  for  a  wife.  She  was  about  twenty,  with 
sharp,  snapping,  yet  most  modest  eyes.  She  was  good- 
looking  ;  had  she  not  been,  her  good  behavior  and  correct 
taste  in  dressing  would  have  made  her  look  well.  He  showed 
her  the  greatest  attention,  and  always  conducted  himself  in 
the  most  proper  manner.  He  led  in  singing  in  the  church, 
and  he  was  a  zealous  professor  of  religion. 

But,  after  all  his  care,  he  was  pained  to  see  that  she  had 
some  regard  for  another  young  man,  named  Howard  Willis, 
whose  parents  would  have  been  better  off  if  they  had  not 
paid  out  so  much  money  in  sending  Howard  and  the  other 
children  away  to  school.  However,  they  were  by  no  means 
poor,  and  their  standing  was  as  good  as  the  best.  The  reason 
why  there  are  not  schools  here,  to  which  young  people  can 
be  sent,  is  because  the  greater  part  of  the  settlers  came  from 
the  Slave  States,  who,  though  being  able  to  support  schools, 
care  not  enough  for  education  to  do  so. 

The  other  storekeeper  wondered  why  Aleck  got  so  many 
customers  of  the  class  that  naturally  should  trade  with  him ; 
for  he  sold  no  cheaper,  while,  being  from  Ohio,  he  thought 
only  the  Ohio  people  should  buy  of  him.  The  real  reason 
was,  that  Aleck  made  it  his  business  to  sell  goods.  Fie 
scarcely  ever  spoke  or  thought  except  with  this  object  in 
view.  He  would  talk  in  a  friendly  manner  with  every  body ; 
he  was  never  tired  of  taking  down  and  putting  up  his  goods ; 
if  a  thing  bought  did  not  suit,  he  would  exchange  it  or  pay 
back  the  money  ;  if  a  mistake  was  made,  he  was  willing  to 
correct  it.  He  was  always  ready,  and  unless  he  was  away 
to  Cincinnati  after  goods,  a  customer  did  not  need  to  en- 
quire for  him.  He  had  an  excellent  clerk,  and  yet  people 
preferred  to  trade  with  him.  He  had  been  broMtt  up  a 
farmer,  and  he  could  talk  with  farmers,  and  to  all^^iers  he 
could  say  something  interesting.  To  church^members  he 
could  address  his  language  according  to  their  piety,  knowl- 
edge, and  taste ;  and  to  men  of  the  world,  who  had  no  princi- 
ple, he  would  slily  tell  smutty  stories,  and  laugh  with  them, 


SERVING  TWO   MASTERS.  31 

as  if  they  were  the  greatest  friends.  This,  as  the  world  goes, 
is  not  considered  a  defect  ;  for  one  may  safely  introduce 
subjects  of  this  kind  to  most  men,  often  to  church-members, 
and  be  thought  more  of;  for  he  is  supposed  to  be  witty ; 
good-naturedly  to  tell  a  dirty  story,  if  it  is  a  little  personal 
it  is  just  as  well,  and  to  give  the  hearer  a  punch  with  the 
finger,  will  go  far  in  doing  a  country  business.  How  many 
good  qualities  are  necessary  to  compensate  for  this  habit, 
and  to  make  a  life-long  business  a  success,  is  another  ques- 
tion. Aside  from  this,  so  much  study  and  art  are  required, 
that  perhaps  the  time  bestowed  on  other  objects  would  be 
more  profitable.  In  no  respect  do  merchants  of  this  kind 
make  such  awful  mistakes  as  in  supposing  that  because  one 
is  not  a  church-member  he  has  a  relish  for  vulgar  stories. 
Such  listen  with  all  the  indifference  that  a  well-bred  lady 
passes  by  a  nude  statue,  while  at  the  same  time  they  hold 
the  speaker  in  the  utmost  scorn.  Still,  they  maintain  good 
characters. 

Aleck  was  tall  and  really  good-looking.  He  dressed  well, 
and  in  young  company  had  no  superior.  By  studying  in- 
dividuals, he  had  came  so  to  understand  them  that  he  knew 
what  would  please  them  best.  With  Alfred  he  was  particu- 
larly intimate,  both  because  he  respected  him  and  because 
he  loved  his  sister. 

Howard  Willis  mingled  little  in  society,  because  all  the 
time  he  could  spare  was  to  be  devoted  to  his  studies.  He 
had  graduated,  and  was  preparing  to  go  to  a  theological 
seminary.  He  had  kept  company  with  Ellen  and  they  har- 
monized in  many  things.  He  loved  her  with  great  devo- 
tion, and  once  he  told  her  so,  but  she  put  him  off,  neither 
accepting  nor  refusing.  It  was  known  that  she  had  treated 
Aleckj^^the  same  way.  The  truth  was,  she  wished  to  wait 
two  or  three  years  before  she  married,  for  she  had  learned 
from  Fowler's,  and  like  works,  that  this  would  be  best  for 
her.  Then  she  would  be  two  or  three-and-twenty.  Of  the 
two  young  men  she  thought  she  saw  more  good  qualities  in 
Howard,  but  it  was  clear  that  Aleck  would  be  able  to  make 


32  LIFE    IN    THE   WEST. 

her  a  more  pleasant  home.  The  principal  and  only  real 
objection  she  had  to  Howard  was,  he  did  not  belong  to  the 
same  church  that  she  did.  She  was  afraid  they  might  not 
be  harmonious.  Still,  and  on  the  whole,  she  was  unable  to 
say  which  of  the  two,  finally,  she  might  choose,  but  it  would 
be  one  of  them. 

Such  was  the  condition  of  things  when  the  war  broke  out. 
Of  course  the  Ohio  Settlement  went  in  a  solid  body  for  the 
Government,  and  the  other  settlements  against  it.  Parts 
of  several  regiments  were  raised  in  this  region,  such  as  the 
30th,  31st,  18th,  infantry,  and  the  6th  cavalry,  and  several 
young  men  around  the  landing  volunteered.  Among  them 
was  Howard.  There  were  young  men,  too,  of  Southern  birth 
and  prejudices,  who  also  volunteered,  such  was  the  influence 
of  Logan,  Lawler,  and  others,  while  there  were  not  a  few  old 
settlers  who  took  sides  wTith  the  Union,  and  cheerfully  and 
joyfully  gave  up  their  boys.  Still,  a  large  portion  of  those 
who  came  to  the  landing  to  do  business  were  opposed  to  the 
cause.  Some  even  had  sons  in  the  rebel  army. 

This  suited  the  other  storekeeper,  for  the  lines  were 
drawn,  and  all  at  once  his  business  increased,  while  Aleck's 
decreased.  The  post  office,  however,  they  could  not  get, 
and  it  did  much  to  sustain  him.  Aleck  boldly  came  out, 
and  said  he  was  going  to  have  this  government  sustained ; 
he  did  not  care  if  it  took  all  the  property  he  was  worth,  if 
required,  to  help  to  do  it.  His  store  was  the  head-quarters 
of  the  Union  men ;  they  were  proud  of  him  and  he  was 
proud  of  them.  Ellen,  in  particular,  looked  on  him  more 
kindly,  and  he  saw  that  when  the  war  should  be  over,  and 
the  rebels  be  put  down,  he  would  enter  upon  a  high  road 
to  prosperity.  What  did  he  care  for  the  loss  of  a  little 
trade  for  a  year  or  so ;  it  would  all  come  back  J^d  five 
times  more  with  it. 

When  the  Ohio  Settlement  boys  went  off,  they  were  made 
much  of.  The  day  they  departed  there  was  a  gathering  of 
all  their  friends  and  acquaintances,  and  they  were  supplied 
with  a  great  variety  of  food  and  delicacies,  such  as  they 


SERVING  TWO   MASTERS.  33 

were  not  likely  to  get  in  camp.  To  Howard,  Aleck  was 
particularly  generous,  for  when  he  selected  some  things  he 
needed,  and  among  them  a  pair  of  fine  boots,  Aleck  said  he 
would  not  take  a  cent.  He  deserved  them,  and  more  too, 
since  he  was  going  to  fight  for  his  country.  He  told  Howard 
he  really  envied  him,  for  instead  of  seeking  a  commission, 
as  so  many  did,  and  which  he  would  honor  so  much,  he  was 
contented  to  be  a  private.  But  he  would  rise.  He  could 
not  help  it. 

The  blockade  of  the  Mississippi  threw  many  pilots  out 
of  employment.  To  a  great  extent  those  who  had  been  run- 
ning in  the  lower  trade  looked  on  the  war  with  disfavor, 
and  the  first  thought  with  them  was,  that  if  they  should  go 
agamst  the  South  they  would  be  remembered  when  they 
should  go  down,  and  they  would  be  a  fine  mark,  in  their 
pilot  houses,  from  the  shore.  They  wanted  peace.  The 
South  ought  to  have  her  rights.  It  was  a  shame  to  go  to 
war  with  our  best  and  only  customers.  None  of  the  people 
of  this  region  had  the  least  interest  in  the  war ;  they  had 
every  reason  to  be  opposed  to  it.  There  was  some  truth  in 
this. 

When  Commodore  Foote  began  to  form  a  navy  there  was 
a  difficulty.  Some  of  the  pilots  would  not  go,  others  had  a 
diarrhoea,  many  hesitated.  A  few,  however,  were  glad  of  a 
place.  When  Alfred  heard  of  this,  he  took  the  first  boat 
for  Cairo  and  reported  himself.  The  commodore  gladly 
accepted  him.  Here  was  a  first-class  pilot,  not  afraid  to 
serve  his  country,  and  one  too  who  was  contented  with 
moderate  wages.  From  that  time  there  was  a  change ; 
others  followed,  and  there  has  been  no  trouble  since. 
Some  one  was  needed  to  lead  the  way.  The  pilots  have 
done  well.  They  have  stood  by  the  wheel  through  showers 
of  cannon  and  musket-balls.  Their  boats  have  been  boarded, 
Bet  on  fire,  wrecked.  There  is  scarcely  an  instance  where 
they  failed  to  do  their  duty. 

Alfred  was  often  employed  where  danger  and  difficulties 
were  greatest.  In  that  vast  and  wonderful  work  of  General 


34  LIFE  IN  THE  WEST. 

Pope's,  by  which  Island  10  was  captured,  where  thousands 
worked  to  open  a  channel  for  the  boats  through  a  flooded 
country,  sawing  off  huge  sycamores,  standing  and  fallen 
from  ten  to  fifteen  feet  under  water,  he  steered  his  boat 
where  boat  never  was  seen  before,  while  the  chimneys  and 
the  pilot-house  were  switched  by  the  upper  limbs  of  trees, 
and  with  blazing  fires  he  steered  past  cabin  doors,  miles 
from  the  Mississippi.  Then,  at  Fort  Henry  and  Donelson, 
he  and  his  companions  brought  their  boats  into  the  con- 
verging fires  of  batteries  of  heavy  guns.  Then,  in  Yazoo 
Pass,  in  the  Sun  Flower  and  other  narrow  and  secluded 
courses,  where,  saying  nothing  of  steamboats,  man  himself, 
except  as  a  fugitive,  seldom  had  ventured,  they,  by  night 
and  by  day,  struggled  with  the  tree-tops  and  flood-wood, 
ringing  their  sharp,  tingling  bells  to  stop,  to  go  forward,  to 
back  again,  to  go  ahead,  and  all  at  the  bidding  of  the 
determined  Grant.  In  these  enterprising  scenes  Alfred  found 
great  enjoyment.  For  years  he  had  seemed  to  wear  a  weed 
on  his  hat,  and  to  wear  it  well.  Now,  he  acted  as  if  in  a 
world  requiring  men  alive  to  duty.  Who  shall  tell  how 
many  souls,  sunk  in  grief  and  despondency,  joyfully  awaked 
by  that  war,  did  deeds  of  valor  and  renown  ? 

It  was  not  long  before  the  adjutant  of  Howard's  regiment 
was  found  incompetent.  Another,  who  professed  that 
everything  was  regular,  was  soon  found  to  have  the  accounts 
perfectly  confused.  They  were  at  a  loss.  The  colonel  had 
been  watching  Howard,  though  he  was  nobody.  He  had 
seen  that  he  differed  from  the  many.  He  did  not  swear, 
drink,  or  play  cards.  He  kept  with  the  sober  and  the  old. 
What  time  was  his  own  he  read  and  wrote.  At  last  the 
colonel  asked  him  if  he  knew  anything  about  accounts. 
Not  much,  but  he  might  learn.  Well,  look  over  these 
papers  and  see  what  can  be  done  with  them. 

The  colonel  was  right.  Howard  was  made  for  an  adju- 
tant. He  did  the  duties  so  well  that  a  graduate  of  West 
Point  said  they  could  not  be  done  better.  He  had  help. 
No  one  may  tell  how  faithfully  he  labored  to  learn  quickly. 


SERVING   TWO   MASTERS.  35 

The  men  were  pleased.  There  would  be  no  mistakes  in 
their  pay  rolls,  clothing  accounts,  or  anything  else. 

When  they  came  to  make  long  marches  Howard  walked 
most  of  the  way,  that  some  foot-sore  soldier  might  ride  his 
horse.  It  did  a  soldier  as  much  good  to  ride  on  the  adjii- 
tant's  horse  as  if  he  had  been  promoted.  One  would  tell 
another,  to  see  him  laugh.  The  colonel  took  the  hint,  and 
let  the  weary  ride.  They  had  no  chaplain.  A  better  one 
could  not  be  found.  He  could  not  hold  two  offices,  still  he 
was  chaplain. 

Howard  went  through  many  battles  and  not  once  was 
wounded.  At  last,  when  the  regiment  come  to  re-enlist 
as  veterans,  his  name  was  sent  to  General  Thomas  as  worthy 
of  a  good  position  in  a  colored  regiment.  Of  course  he  got 
it.  Time  passed.  The  family  had  been  hearing  from  him 
all  along.  The  last  heard  from  him  was  this :  he  went  out 
from  Memphis  with  General  Sturgiss ;  a  shameful,  dreadful 
defeat  followed.  It  was  probable  that  Howard  was  taken 
prisoner  and  killed,  for  he  was  wounded  in  the  leg.  Two 
of  his  soldiers  were  helping  him  on  a  horse,  Forrest's 
men  rushed  in.  That  was  the  last  heard  from  him,  and  the 
regiment  had  returned. 

The  truth  was,  they  had  to  flee  across  the  country.  He 
was  hid  in  various  places.  The  blacks  everywhere  assisted 
and  brought  provisions.  Finally,  he  and  his  two  soldiers 
were  brought  into  Memphis,  where  his  leg  was  taken  off  and 
his  other  wounds  dressed.  Then  he  was  sent  to  the  Mound 
City  Hospital. 

The  Avar  was  lasting  much  longer  than  Aleck  supposed  it 
would  last.  Trade  was  going  to  the  other  store.  He 
doubted  whether  it  was  his  duty  to  let  an  enemy  to  the 
government  get  all  the  money.  By  degrees,  as  his  old  cus- 
tomers came  after  letters,  he  enticed  them  back.  He  knew 
how  to  do  it.  To  keep  them  was  another  thing.  The  other 
store  set  counter  currents  in  motion.  It  is  impossible  to 
know  all,  but  Aleck  certainly  had  a  talk  with  the  leading 
copperheads.  This  was  about  the  time  of  the  Congressional 


36  LIFE   IN   THE  WEST. 

election.  Aleck's  clerk,  who  was  supposed  a  good  Union 
man,  said  he  would  like  to  vote  for  McClellan,  for  Pre- 
sident. Aleck  himself  said  that  McClellan  had  not  had 
justice  done  him.  When  he  undertook  to  show  his  Union 
friends  why,  he  had  to  confess  he  was  not  as  well  posted  as 
he  ought  to  be.  Well,  McClellan  wouldn't  do.  He  was  for 
having  somebody  take  hold  and  put  the  rebels  through.  It 
was  unaccountable  how  things  dragged  along.  He  thought 
if  he  only  had  charge  of  things  he  could  close  up  in  six 
months.  Yes,  if  it  was  the  best  way,  make  the  negroes 
fight,  make  every  man  that  could  leave  his  business  go. 
Raise  a  million,  two  millions  of  men,  and  sweep  the  board. 
If  they  didn't  do  it  he  was  afraid  the  country  would  go  to 
ruin.  Gold  was  140,  calico  22^  to  23f,  and  Spragues  24, 
domestic  46,  sugar  16£  to  16f,  by  the  hogshead,  and  cotton 
yarn  55  cents  a  dozen.  People  couldn't  stand  any  such 
prices ;  they  were  not  foing  to  do  it.  Then  he  stretched 
himself  out  on  the  counter,  and  rested  his  hand  on  a  pile  of 
calico,  as  if  he  were  the  man. 

We  happen  to  know  that  the  question  was  asked  why 
there  was  no  Union  League  at  the  landing.  We  happen  to 
know  that  Aleck  was  given  to  understand  that  if  a  Union. 
League  was  not  started  he  could  not  hold  the  post-office. 
Certainly  we  ought  to  have  a  Union  League.  It  was  singu- 
lar nobody  had  started  one.  If  nobody  else  would  move,  he 
would.  He  was  not  much  used  to  public  business,  but 
he  could  set  the  thing  a-going.  It  was  impossible  to  do 
without  it.  "  Tell  your  folks  to  come  down  here  to-morrow 
night ;  we  are  going  to  have  a  little  talk  on  national  affairs, 
—  all  in  a  quiet  way.  Don't  fail  to  get  out  the  old  man. 
No,  no  women; — just  a  little  matter  of  business." 

Then  the  Union  League  was  started.  There  were  good 
Union  men  in  it ;  and  soon  there  were  many  whom  nobody 
ever  expected  to  become  Union  men ;  while  some  names 
were  proposed,  but  dropped — it  was  too  bad.  The  object 
was  to  bring  everybody  into  the  Union — to  sweep  the  board. 
Look,  now:  nobody  can  object  to  the  oath,  nothing  said 


SERVING   TWO   MASTERS.  37 

against  anybody,  except  the  enemies  of  the  government; 
surely  that  is  a  very  bad  man  who  is  an  enemy  to  the 
government.  In  the  end  it  became  important,  when  any 
particular  business  was  to  be  transacted,  that  a  little  Union 
League  was  got  together;  and  the  first  thing  discussed 
was  — What  kind  of  a  Union  League  have  we  got  ? 

The  other  storekeeper  confessed  that  Aleck  was  too  smart 
for  him.  At  sun-down  the  steps  in  front  of  Aleck's  store 
were  crowded  with  men  who  watched  others  pitching  quoits, 
while  only  a  few,  sometimes  none,  were  on  his  steps ;  all 
day  teams  and  horses  would  crowd  around  his  store, — a  spell 
ago  he  thought  he  would  have  some  more  hitching-posts 
made,  but  he  concluded  he  had  enough.  He  wondered  what 
kind  of  a  place  it  would  be  for  trade  further  west.  What 
splendid  colors  dazzle  the  eye  of  the  beholder  when  he  views 
the  successful  man !  When  these  colors  are  true  gold,  they 
are  worthy  of  admiration ;  but  if  they  are  only  gilded  copper, 
they  fade,  and  we  wonder  again. 

Three  yeai-s  of  the  war  had  passed,  and  Ellen  was  twenty- 
three.  It  was  time  she  should  seriously  consider ;  for,  if  she 
delayed  much  longer,  she  did  not  know  what  might  happen. 
No  unmarried  woman  looks  upon  the  passage  of  years  with- 
out emotion.  Aleck  was  still  attentive ;  he  had  said  he 
would  wait,  he  was  waiting.  She  knew  she  need  only  smile 
a  little  more  sweetly  to  gut  him  to  ask  her  to  marry  him. 
The  immense  business  he  was  doing  no  doubt  helped  her  to 
decide  in  his  favor ;  and  after  long  reflection  she  concluded 
to  have  him. 

When  he  saw  the  sweet  smile,  and  his  eyes  caught  her 
'eyes  modestly  gazing  upon  him,  he  knew  the  time  had 
come ;  he  proposed,  and  was  accepted.  The  prize  he  so 
long  and  patiently  had  sought  was  his  at  last.  Well  could 
he  say  to  himself  that  there  were  no  obstacles  he  could  not 
overcome ;  and  he  prided  himself  in  his  business,  in  his  wife 
that  was  to  be,  and  in  everything  that  was  his  own. 

The  wedding-day  was  fixed ;  for  why  should  either  longer 
delay  ?  Alfred  was  at  home,  and  father  and  mother  were  in 


38  LIFE   IN   THE   WEST. 

good  health :  they  could  have  no  better  time.  She  would 
come  down  to  the  store  and  pick  out  her  dress. 

Her  father  drove  the  buggy  for  her,  and  she  went  in. 
The  store  was  filled  with  folks,  and  there  was  great  news. 
The  rebels,  50,000  strong,  had  crossed  the  Potomac,  the  tele- 
graph was  cut,  two  passenger-trains  between  Baltimore  and 
Philadelphia  were  robbed,  and  burned,  Gen.  Franklin  taken 
prisoner^  important  bridges  burned,  Gen.  Wallace  defeated 
in  a  pitched  battle  at  Monocacy  bridge;  Maryland  overrun, 
farmers  and  everybody  fleeing ;  and,  by  last  accounts,  heavy 
fighting  was  going  on  in  the  suburbs  of  Washington. 

Aleck  was  busy,  but  he  could  talk.  Calico  was  50  cts. 
a  yard,  domestic  80  cts.,  and  gold  2.80;  by  latest  advices 
from  Cincinnati  goods  were  rising  every  hour,  nobody  knew 
what  to  ask  for  leading  staples,  and  even  the  single  article 
of  bacon  had  gone  up  5  cts.  at  a  jump. 

"  Now  I  '11  wait  on  you,  Ellen.  You  see  how  busy  we  are. 
Jaconette,  you  say." 

He  showed  her  a  piece  which  cost  50  cts.  before  the  war. 
Such  goods  do  not  go  off  fast. 

"  How  much  a  yard  ?  " 

"  Well,  we  shan't  think  of  charging  you  anything,  you 
know.  How  much  will  you  have?  We  sell  it  at  $2.00  a 
yard;  it  is  worth  $1.75  in  Cincinnati." 

"  Well,  but  I  am  going  to  pay  for  it." 

"  No,  you  shan't." 

"  I  tell  you  I  am  going  to  pay  for  it.  Alfred  gave  me  the 
money,  and  a  plenty  more  beside.  He  told  me  to  pay  for 
all  I  got." 

"Well,  $1.75  is  as  low  as  we  can  afford  it.  How  many 
yards  do  you  say  ?  " 

"  Let  me  see." 

She  stood  by  the  counter,  holding  the  cambric  at  arm's 
length,  considering  the  width  and  how  many  breadths  were 
needed  in  the  skirt.  Aleck  stood  with  the  yard-stick  in  his 
hand,  looking  at  her,  and  feeling  happy  enough.  Just  then 
a  farmer  came  to  the  counter,  shook  hands  with  Aleck,  and 


SERVING  TWO    MASTERS.  39 

asked  him  the  news.  He  repeated  what  he  had  said  before, 
which  was  discouraging  enough,  and  added  a  little;  when  a 
young  soldier  standing  near,  with  one  empty  sleeve,  said — 

"  Mind,  I  tell  ye,  Gen.  Grant  '11  knock  this  business  higher 
nor  a  kite,  fust  thing  ye  know." 

"Why  don't  he  do  it?"  said  Aleck;  "now  is  his  time. 
But  I  've  heard  this  too  often ;  I  don't  see  any  of  the  good 
things  coming  I  've  heard  of  so  much." 

"  Nor  I,  either,"  said  the  farmer. 

The  young  soldier  spoke  up  short,  and  did  not  mind  an 
oath  that  was  personal. 

" The  trouble  is  you  don't  want  to  see." 

"  Yes,  I  do.  If  you  '11  only  show  it  to  me,  no  man  will  be 
more  glad  of  it  than  I.  But,  so  far  as  I  can  see,  the  country 
is  ruined ;  and  I  don't  see  how  we  shall  help  it." 

"  That 's  my  fix,"  said  the  farmer. 

Ellen  turned  towards  him,  and  seeing  who  he  was,  she 
gave  a  heavy  sigh,  and  the  cambric  dropped  from  her  hands 
like  a  signal-flag. 

"Now,  Ellen,  how  many  yards?" 

"  Did  I  understand  you  to  say  that  the  country  is  ruined  ?" 

"  Yes,  I  did,  and  it's  plain  enough." 

"  Then  I  don't  want  any  white  dresses." 

"  Why,  what's  this  ?    What's  the  matter  now  ?" 

"Nothing,  only  I  want  no  white  dresses — I  might  get  a 
black  one,  perhaps.  I'll  not  take  anything  to-day.  I  won- 
der where  father  is  ?" 

Aleck  is  as  spry  as  can  be.  Before  she  got  to  the  door,  he 
came  round  the  end  of  the  counter  and  said : 

"  What's  this  nonsense  ?  Come  back,  now.  You  shan't 
go  off  without  this  dress.  I  wonder  if  you  thought  I  was 
going  to  charge  you  for  it  ?  I  shan't  charge  you  a  cent,  and 
I'll  throw  in  all  the  trimmings  and  everything.  You  want 
some  other  things.  Come  now,  this  won't  do." 

"  No,  no,  I  say.  When  I  said  it  I  meant  it.  Ah,  here's 
father.  Come,  father,  I'm  ready." 

Ellen  was  putting  some  biscuit  in  the  stove  oven  when 


40  LIFE  IN   THE  WEST. 

Aleck  came  into  the  porch,  shaded  by  Concord  grape  vines, 
from  which  hung  hundreds  of  clusters,  already  large  and 
heavy.  The  river  was  spread  out  below,  the  Evansville 
packet  was  going  around  the  upper  bend,  and  the  sun,  shin- 
ing on  the  water,  made  it  blaze.  Just  as  soon  as  the  cus- 
tomers began  to  thin  out,  he  had  got  on  his  horse  and  come 
up,  determined  to  have  an  explanation.  The  packet  had 
brought  the  latest  papers,  one  of  which  he  handed  to  Alfred. 
The  news  was  not  quite  so  discouraging,  but  nothing  seemed 
clear. 

As  Ellen  came  out  of  the  cook-room  she  took  off  her  apron 
and  hung  it  up  behind  the  door,  then  sitting  down,  not  far 
from  Aleck,  said  she  supposed  he  had  come  up  to  talk  to 
her.  She  would  listen  to  what  he  had  to  say.  Her  mother 
sat  near  the  doorway,  knitting ;  her  father  was  at  work  at 
some  hoop  poles  on  a  shaving  horse  under  the  trees,  and 
Alfred  sat  in  the  porch  looking  over  the  paper.  He  had 
gay  carpet  slippers  on  his  feet,  and  his  clothes  were  as  white 
as  the  driven  snow. 

Aleck  thought  she  must  have  taken  some  offence  to  leave 
so  suddenly. 

"No  offence  in  particular." 

"  Well,  why  didn't  you  take  the  dress  ?  Shan't  I  send  it 
up  to  you  ?" 

"  I  might  as  well  tell  you  first  as  last  that  I  am  not  going 
to  marry  you." 

"  Well,  now,  I'd  like  to  know  what  I've  done  ?" 

"  You  are  not  the  man  I  took  you  to  be — not  the  man  you 
pretended  to  be.  You  are  not  a  Union  man." 

"  What !  I  not  a  Union  man  !  That's  good,  now.  What 
makes  you  think  I  am  not  a  Union  man  ?  You  must  be 
sharper  than  anybody  else.  Haven't  I  suffered  in  business 
on  account  of  my  Union  sentiments  ?  Haven't  the  copper- 
heads hooted  me  and  abused  me  past  telling,  because  I  have 
stuck  by  the  Union  first,  last,  and  eveiy  time  ?" 

"  You  may  think  you  are  a  Union  man,  but  it  seems  to 
me  that  you  don't  know  what  it  means  to  be  a  Union  man. 


SERVING  TWO   MASTERS.  41 

According  to  my  weak  apprehension  there  is  no  merit  in 
being  for  the  Union  when  prospects  are  bright  and  every- 
thing goes  well.  Everybody  is  for  the  Union  then.  But 
when  clouds  darken,  and  things  are  uncertain,  that  is  the 
time  for  a  Union  man  to  show  himself.  That  is  the  very 
time  for  him  to  be  bold,  to  waver  not,  and  to  show  his  faith 
by  works.  What  is  he  good  for  if  he  fail  in  darkness  and 
in  the  hour  of  peril  ?  " 

"  Very  well ;  but  are  you  not  willing  that  facts  should 
speak  for  themselves  ?" 

"  Yes,  facts.  But  when  you  say  the  country  is  ruined  you 
are  assuming  a  fact.  How  do  you  know  the  country  is 
ruined?  I'll  tell  you  when  the  country  is  ruined.  It  is 
when  men  say  it  is  ruined.  It  is  their  saying  so  that  ruins 
it.  From  copperheads  we  expect  nothing.  From  children, 
women,  and  many  men  we  expect  little.  From  leading 
business  men,  who  pretend  to  be  for  the  Union,  we  do  ex- 
pect something.  I  had  just  as  lief  talk  plainly  to  you  as 
not.  You  deserve  it.  There  are  so  many  copperheads 
around  you,  who  are  continually  talking  against  the  govern- 
ment and  saying  the  Constitution  is  destroyed,  and  you  are 
so  weak,  or  something  else,  that  you  see  with  their  eyes  and 
hear  with  their  ears,  and,  to  tell  my  opinion,  I  don't  believe 
you  have  the  substance  of  a  Union  man  in  you.  I  should 
think  that  a  man  with  half  an  idea,  when  the  enemies  of  the 
government  echo  every  Avord  he  says,  at  least  would  look 
around  to  see  where  he  is  standing." 

"  Well,  you  know  it  wouldn't  do  for  me  to  come  out  harsh 
and  hurt  the  feelings  of  my  customers.  I  hope  I  may  be  a 
Union  man  without  hurting  one's  feelings." 

"  That  is  the  trouble  with  you,  sir.  You  are  trying  to 
serve  tioo  masters.  Let  me  tell  yoii,  you  can't  do  any  such 
thing.  The  nature  of  the  case  is  such  that  you  will  serve 
the  worse  one,  for  if  you  serve  the  good  one  you  will  have 
nothing  to  do  with  the  bad  one.  In  a  war  like  this,  what 
business  have  you  to  be  looking  after  the  feelings  of  your 
enemies,  only  you  don't  know  it,  and  the  enemies  of  every 


42  LIFE  IN   THE  WEST. 

human  being  on  the  face  of  the  earth,  themselves  not  ex- 
cepted — the  enemies  of  all  light,  all  science,  all  knowledge, 
all  religion.  I  care  no  more  for  their  feelings,  when  in  sym- 
pathy with  the  rebellion,  than  I  do  for  the  feelings  of  the 
fallen  angels.  You  are  trying  to  deceive  yourself.  Can't 
you  respect  their  feelings  in  any  way  besides  giving  them 
comfort  ?  You  make  no  distinctions  between  treating  them 
well  and  taking  up  their  hollow-hearted  cries.  Now,  look 
how  you  get  along  in  trying  to  serve  two  masters.  The 
feelings  of  the  enemies  of  the  government  are  very  ten- 
der. What  respect,  what  regard,  what  provision,  are  you 
making  for  my  feelings  ?  Or  do  none  have  feelings  but 
traitors  ?  " 

"  Now,  Ellen,  I  see  that  plainly  enough.  You  are  right ; 
I  am  wrong.  I  want  you  to  look  over  it.  I  have  so  much 
on  my  mind  that  I  don't  make  distinctions  as  I  ought  to. 
There's  no  mistake  but  what  you  are  in  the  right,  entirely 
in  the  right.  I  hope,  upon  my  soul,  I  will  get  over  this 
little  difficulty.  Suppose,  now,  you  tell  me  how  much  a 
Union  man  should  be  willing  to  do,  and  see  if  we  agree." 

"  I  am  not  surprised  that  you  want  to  know.  A  Union 
man  is  determined  to  restore  this  Union,  because  no  future 
peace  is  possible  if  it  be  not  restored.  If  the  rebels,  in  tem- 
porary success,  should  throw  Sherman's  army  across  the 
Ohio,  and  there  be  fighting  in  the  streets  of  Cincinnati ;  if 
Grant's  army  should  hasten  to  the  defences  of  Washington, 
and  the  rebels  should  drive  it  into  the  Blue  Mountains  or 
the  Catskills,  and  run  military  trains  through  Baltimore 
into  Philadelphia, — nay,  should  they  feed  their  horses 
from  the  curbstones  of  Wall  street ;  if  our  money  should 
become  as  worthless  as  brown  paper ;  if  we  dare  not  send 
a  ship  to  sea,  and  commerce  be  dead,  still  he  will  be  deter- 
mined to  restore  the  Union.  For,  so  long  as  we  have  nine- 
teen millions,  and  they  not  seven,  so  long  as  the  sun  shines 
and  the  rain  falls  over  fertile  fields,  where  grass,  com,  wheat 
and  oats  grow,  where  flax,  and  hemp,  and  wool  grow,  and 
the  hands  to  spin  are  ready,  he  will  carry  on  this  war. 


SEEVING  TWO   MASTERS.  43 

Every  furnace,  forge,  and  foundry,  every  machine  shop, 
every  machinist  establishment,  shall  be  organized  to  carry 
on  this  war.  Every  blacksmith  shop  shall  make  shoes  for 
cavalry  horses,  or  put  them  on ;  every  spare  bushel  of  grain 
or  bale  of  hay  shall  go  to  the  army,  and  all  muscles,  willing 
or  unwilling,  shall  be  strained  to  help  to  overthrow  the 
rebellion.  He  will  count  no  days,  no  months,  no  years,  till 
this  is  accomplished." 

"  I  confess,"  said  Aleck,  "  I  am  not  quite  prepared  to  go 
this  length." 

"I  know  you  are  not,  and  that  is  the  reason  you  can't 
have  me.  I  '11  tell  you  another  thing :  when  we  count  the 
advantages  and  blessings  which  will  follow  the  restoration 
of  this  Union, — when  out  of  the  heart  of  this  nation  we  tear 
the  foul  cancer  of  slavery,  which  has  corrupted  every  walk 
of  life,  from  the  highest  to  the  lowest ;  there  will  be  room, 
time,  opportunity,  and  will  to  build  a  pure  structure  on  our 
Constitution, — and  then,  sir,  we  will  begin  to  see  what  a 
true  Union  man  of  these  days  is  worth.  It  is  a  poor,  beg- 
garly estimate,  to  say  he  is  worth  his  weight  in  gold.  If  the 
world  itself  were  a  solid  globe  of  gold,  it  would  not  be  worth 
his  little  finger;  if  all  the  stars  of  heaven  —  no  matter  how 
vast  or  how  many  they  may  be — were  gold,  they  would  not 
be  worth  the  hand  that  holds  the  musket  that  brings  a  rebel 
to  the  dust.  Gold  ?  Are  you  thinking  of  gold  ?  There  are 
things  in  this  world,  and  here,  where  we  live  and  move, 
millions  of  times  more  precious  than  gold." 

"  Well,  this  is  a  thing  I  never  expected.  I  confess  it  is  a 
great  disappointment.  I  think  I  shall  live  it  through." 

"Aleck,  there  is  one  thing  I  forgot.  Do  you  want  to 
hear  it?" 

"  O,  yes ;  I  '11  listen  all  day,  all  night." 

"I  think  you  do  not  understand  the  first  principles  on 
which  this  war  is  waged ;  nor  do  I  believe  that  you  care. 
I  '11  tell  you  the  reason  why.  Never  in  my  life  did  I  hear 
you  say  a  single  word  against  slavery  and  its  awful  crimes 
—  of  selling  one  church-member  to  another, —  or  conveying 


44  LIFE    IN    THE   WEST. 

the  least  idea  that  it  is  a  sin,  or  has  anything  to  do,  one  way 
or  another,  with  this  war." 

"Maybe  I  haven't.  I  've  had  enough  to  do  besides  filling 
my  head  with  politics.  But  I  think  the  country  has  got  to 
a  fine  pass,  if  everybody  has  got  to  do  just  as  Abe  Lincoln 
says,  and  one  can't  be  a  Union  man  unless  he  votes  for  him." 

Ellen  saw  through  this  in  a  moment,  and  said, 

"Ah,  I  see  you  are  for  Fremont." 

"  Certainly  I  am.  Here  is  your  brother  Alfred,  now,  who 
always  was  a  great  Fremont  man  •  —  he  can't  complain  if  I 
come  over  to  his  side  at  last." 

"I  thought,  Aleck,"  said  her  brother,  "that  you  knew 
more  than  this.  Let  me  show  you  the  difference.  If  the 
copperheads  had  gone  to  Fremont,  I  would  have  nothing 
to  say, — they  would  be  converted ;  but,  since  he  has  gone  to 
them,  he  is  converted ;  and  I  am  not  such  a  fool  as  to  follow- 
him." 

"  Well,  fix  it  up  as  you  please  among  you.  I  see  I  'm  out, 
somehow.  But  it 's  news  to  me  that  I  am  not  a  Union  man, — 
quite  news." 

"Aleck,"  said  Alfred,  "  there's  a  thing  that's  been  on  my 
mind  a  good  deal,  and,  since  you're  for  Fremont,  I  want  to 
ask  you  a  question.  When  Jim  Allen  and  Bartlett  ran  for 
Congress,  the  Union  ticket  in  this  precinct  was  short  just 
two  votes.  We  knoAV  all  who  pretended  to  vote  for  the 
Union.  Now,  didn't  you  and  your  clerk  vote  for  Jim  Allen  ? 
I  remember  you  said  Bartlett  wasn't  fit ;  but  I  had  no  idea 
you  bolted  the  ticket.  What  do  you  say  ?  " 

Aleck  started,  but  said, 

"  Do  you  consider  yourself  authorized  to  demand  how  I 
cast  my  vote  ?  " 

"  Not  at  all,  not  at  all.  You  needn't  say  any  more,  because 
if  you  had  voted  against  Allen  you  would  say  so." 

This  was  so  unexpected  to  Ellen  that  she  fired  high. 

"That  ever  I  should  have  dreamed  of  marrying  a  man 
who  voted  for  Jim  Allen  !  W'hy,  he  never  pretended  to  be 
for  the  Union ;  and  in  Congress,  whenever  in  any  possible 


SERVING  TWO   MASTERS.  45 

manner  he  could  oppose  the  government  he  has  done  so. 
Oh,  dear,  this  is  too  bad !  Here  it  is  again, — trying  to  serve 
two  masters.  And  now  you  call  yourself  a  Union  man ! 
Boo  !  I  know  that's  not  pretty,  but  I  declare  I  've  no 
patience  on  finding  out  what  a  traitor  you  are." 

"  I  must  confess  you're  pretty  hard  on  me ;  and,  as  things 
stand,  I  think  I'd  better  leave."  Aleck  got  up  and  walked 
around,  quite  important.  Then  he  turned  to  Ellen,  and  said, 
"By  the  way,  I  suppose  you  will  be  looking  around  for 
somebody  else.  But  I'm  sorry  to  tell  you  that  Howard  has 
had  his  left  leg  cut  off,  and  he's  shot  in  the  arm ;  maybe 
that  will  have  to  come  off  too." 

"Howard?  Howard?  Have  they  heard  from  him?  Where 
is  he  ?  Did  you  get  a  letter  ?  " 

"No,  but  just  as  I  came  away  his  folks  did;  and  he's  in 
-the  Mound-City  Hospital.  You  seem  mightily  interested. 
I  hope  you  won't  think  of  marrying  a  man  crippled  up  as  he 
is, — besides,  you  know  he  doesn't  belong  to  your  church." 

"  Who  said  anything  about  marrying  him  ?  I  didn't.  But 
I  '11  tell  you,  Mr.  Aleck  Campbell,  that  if  they  should  cut  off 
Howard's  left  leg,  as  they  have,  and  should  cut  off  his  right 
leg, — and  I  won't  stop  here, — if  they  should  cut  off  both  arms, 
and  there  were  nothing  left  but  his  body  for  me  to  put  my 
arms  around,  I  would  marry  him,  I — I  can't  tell  how  much 
sooner  I  would  marry  him  than  I  would  you !  You  throw  it 
up  that  he  does  not  belong  to  my  church.  Bless  your  inno- 
cent soul !  you  do  not  seem  to  know,  that,  as  he  is  a  true 
Christian  and  a  true  Union  man,  we  can  walk  hand-in-hand 
through  the  doors  of  all  true  churches." 

"  Stop,  Aleck,"  said  Alfred ;  "  don't  be  in  a  pet  because 
rny  sister  has  taken  another  shute.  Supper  will  be  ready 
soon." 

"  Xo,  I  thank  you ;  I  won't  stay." 

The  next  morning  Howard's  parents  were  at  the  landing, 
waiting  for  the  packet.  They  had  not  been  there  long  when 
down  came  Alfred  and  Ellen.  She  said  it  was  no  time  for 
ceremonies  ;  she  was  going  down  to  see  Howard.  The  boat 


46  LIFE   IN    THE   WEST. 

came  along ;  they  got  aboard,  and  Alfred  went  into  the 
pilot-house, — in  no  other  part  of  the  boat  could  he  be  con- 
tented to  stay. 

They  found  Howard  with  his  leg  cut  off,  it  is  true,  and 
a  flesh-wound  in  his  arm ;  but  he  was  doing  well,  and  the 
surgeons  had  said  he  could  go  home  in  a  few  days.  He  was 
pale  when  they  came  in ;  but  you  never  saw  a  man  so  color 
up  as  he  did  when  he  saw  Ellen.  He  had  given  her  up  en- 
tirely, and  he  knew  not  what  to  make  of  it. 

When  all  got  quiet,  and  the  old  folks  were  busy  at  some- 
thing else,  Ellen  went  and  sat  by  him. 

"Now,  Ellen,  this  is  very  kind  in  you." 

"  Oh,  not  at  all." 

"But  it  is,  now.  Tell  me,  does  it  mean  anything  —  any- 
thing in  particular  ?  " 

"  Why,  certainly;  I  came  down  to  help  take  care  of  you." 

"  Yes,  I  know  that ;  but  would  you  have  come  if  you  had 
never  known  that  I  loved  you  ?  " 

"  No,  I  don't  think  I  should." 

"  Well,  then,  you  love  me  a  little,  don't  you, — but  not  so 
much  as  you  would  if  I  had  another  leg  ?  " 

"  Oh,  more  ;  a  thousand  times  more." 

"  Thank  you  for  those  words,  my  dearest  life  and  love ! 
They  pay  me  for  all  I  have  suffered.  *  The  Lord  bless  thee, 
and  keep  thee.  The  Lord  lift  up  His  countenance  upon 
thee,  and  give  thee  peace.'" 

In  a  few  days  they  got  him  home.  They  had  to  be  quite 
particular,  but  the  journey  was  made  without  difficulty. 

Then  the  folks  began  to  talk.  You  know  what  was  nat- 
urally said  by  the  illnatured.  Howard  was  getting  well  so 
fast,  that  Ellen  consented  to  have  the  talking  stopped.  It 
would  give  her  a  good  chance  to  take  care  of  him.  She 
went  down  to  pick  out  a  dress.  She  had  traded  so  long  in 
one  store,  she  thought  she  would  see  what  they  had  in  the 
other.  She  bought  what  she  wanted,  but  she  required  a 
yard  and  a  half  of  bleached  drilling,  and  she  went  into 
Aleck's  to  get  it.  He  saw  in  at  once  how  the  case  stood. 


SERVING   TWO   MASTERS.  47 

At  first  ho  was  rather  sullen ;  but  soon,  in  a  careless  way, 
he  asked  her  why  she  did  not  get  her  dress  of  him.  She 
said  she  would  as  lief  trade  with  one  copperhead  as  another. 

Then  they  had  a  wedding.  Everything  was  nice  and 
good,  and  crowds  of  folks  were  there.  It  is  not  often  that 
a  man  gets  married  just  after  he  has  a  leg  cut  off.  They 
told  him  it  woiild  do  just  as  well  to  sit  down.  No,  he  was 
going  to  stand  up.  Ellen  got  his  crutch,  and  steadied  him 
a  little  till  the  minister  was  ready ;  then  she  took  his  hand. 
There  is  no  doubt  that  they  were  full  as  happy  when  he 
got  well. 

There  was  another  revolution  in  commercial  affairs  at  the 
landing.  At  sundown,  the  steps  in  front  of  the  other  store 
were  filled  with  men  watching  others  pitching  quoits;  during 
the  day,  it  looked  as  if  Aleck  had  more  hitching-posts  than 
he  needed.  Having  time  on  his  hands,  he  took  to  reading 
Fremont's  travels.  He  frequently  remarked  that  there  must 
be  a  good  country  out  west.  If  he  should  go  thither,  we 
can  tell  him,  as  well  as  any  other  like  him,  that  whoever 
undertakes  to  serve  two  masters  will  fail. 


THE  STEAMBOAT  CAPTAIN. 

ON  the  Illinois  shore  of  the  Ohio  River  lives  the  Rev.  Mr. 
Moss.  He  went  thither  a  few  years  after  his  marriage. 
He  seldom  preaches,  because  he  has  weak  lungs,  and  it  was 
on  this  account  that  he  went  to  this  warm  country.  He  is 
a  farmer.  It  is  necessary  to  go  back  and  relate  some  mat- 
ters, that  I  may  describe  the  character  of  his  son,  who  is  a 
steamboat  captain.  Mr.  Moss  resided  in  Vermont,  near 
Lake  George.  In  the  place  where  he  was  attending  college 
he  fell  in  love  with  a  girl  who  lived  with  her  parents  near 
the  town,  and  it  was  agreed  that  when  he  should  finish  his 
studies  and  see  how  they  were  to  get  a  living,  they  would 
be  married.  They  had  only  one  trouble,  which  arose  from 
his  requesting  her  not  to  receive  any  attentions  from  any 
other  young  man,  which  she  agreed  to ;  but  she  insisted  that 
he  should  pay  no  attentions  to  any  other  young  lady.  She 
was  determined  on  this,  and  he  had  to  submit,  for  she  was 
not  going  to  wait  several  years  and  run  the  risk  of  some 
artful  girl  picking  him  up,  and  leaving  her  to  do  the  best 
she  could.  She  kept  good  watch  of  him.  He  was  faithful ; 
he  pursued  his  studies  with  diligence ;  finally,  he  graduated 
and  was  ordained.  Immediately  after  this  he  received  a 
call  to  take  charge  of  a  church  near  where  he  was  brought 
up.  Nothing  was  to  be  done,  then,  but  to  marry  the  lady 
of  his  choice,  which  he  did,  and  brought  her  from  the  level 
country,  across  the  Green  Mountains,  to  the  pretty  home 
that  was  provided  on  the  shore  of  Lake  George. 

At  that  time  the  writings  of  Graham,  Alcott  and   the 
(48) 


THE    STEAMBOAT    CAPTAIN.  49 

Fowlers  were  first  introduced.  They  taught  the  importance 
of  a  vegetable  diet,  of  di'essing  loose,  of  frequent  bathing, 
and  other  things.  These  Delia  carefully  studied  and  laid 
to  heart.  Naturally,  her  husband  was  of  her  way  of  think- 
ing— indeed  he  was  fully  as  strict — and  they  kept  house  with 
no  means  for  making  tea  or  coffee;  they  had  no  salt-cellar, 
and  their  diet  was  composed  of  Graham  bread,  vegetables, 
eggs,  milk,  and  all  the  varieties  of  fruit.  They  would  not 
cat  butter  because  it  was  fat,  but  in  a  short  time  Delia 
brought  a  plate  of  butter  on  the  table,  smiling  as  she  did  so, 
and  saying  she  did  not  believe  it  would  hurt  them.  The 
young  minister  smiled  too,  for  he  thought  as  she  did.  Of 
course  they  had  salt  in  it,  and  afterwards  they  used  salt  in 
their  food,  quite  forgetting  that  it  is  a  mineral.  With  this 
change  in  their  diet  thev  were  contented  for  many  years, 
and  enjoyed  excellent  health.  After  a  long  time  a  chicken 
was  killed ;  it  seemed  good,  and  tasted  as  of  old.  As  chil- 
dren came  on  they  found  it  necessary  to  have  lard ;  hains 
were  good  too  ;  and  they  had  meat,  but  they  eat  very  little, 
often  it  was  not  on  the  table  for  months.  They  never  have 
tea  or  coffee,  except  when  there  are  visitors,  and  to  this  day 
their  bread  is  made  of  unbolted  flour. 

They  were  married  in  May,  and  Mr.  Moss  was  very  de- 
sirous that  his  wife  should  pay  attention  to  some  studies 
which  she  had  neglected,  and  he  marked  lessons  for  her 
which  she  was  to  commit  to  memory.  His  object  was  to 
make  her  better  fitted  to  hear  him  converse,  and  to  engage 
in  conversation  with  intelligent  people  who  should  visit 
them.  This  she  undertook  to  do,  and  she  made  some  pro- 
gress ;  but  she  had  work  which  she  wished  to  attend  to, 
and  she  thought,  too,  that  at  the  age  of  twenty-four  it  was 
too  late  to  go  to  school.  After  several  months'  trial  with 
her  the  minister  gave  up  the  plan,  simply  saying  it  was  too 
hard  work.  To  tell  the  truth  she  was  thinking  of  something 
else. 

But  in  the  meantime,  if  he  proposed  that  they  should  walk 
or  ride  among  the  mountains,  she  was  ready,  and  nothing 
3 


50  LIFE   IN   THE   WEST. 

pleased  her  more  than  a  sail  on  the  water  through  the  many 
islands.  Most  persons  consider  that  for  water  scenery  of 
this  kind  Lake  George  is  as  tine  as  any  found  in  America. 
Sometimes,  if  he  was  quite  busy  writing  his  sermons,  she 
would  take  the  boat  herself,  and  getting  in  the  shade  of  an 
island,  would  sit  reading,  or  watch  the  shadows  of  the 
clouds  flying  across  the  mountains ;  or  she  would  look  down 
into  the  water,  past  the  fish,  to  the  bottom,  or  would  wave 
her  hands  to  and  fro  in  the  water  so  long  that  the  flesh 
would  be  drawn  up.  As  they  were  rambling  among  the 
mountains  she  would  urge  him  to  stop  by  the  waterfalls  and 
the  fountains,  and  she  would  gaze  upon  them  so  long  that 
when  he  pulled  her  by  the  hand,  or  gave  her  a  kiss,  she 
seemed  to  awake  from  a  dream. 

Frequently,  when  the  weather  was  warm,  they  would 
take  their  bathing  dresses  to  the  lake,  where  shelters  were 
prepared,  when  they  would  go  into  the  water,  and  this 
pleased  her  so  much  that  she  almost  learned  to  swim,  and 
she  would  have  learned  if  she  had  not  been  afraid  to  dive, 
for  she  would  only  duck  her  head  a  little.  The  summer, 
being  spent  this  way,  was  quite  a  merry  one ;  and  though 
she  thought  she  had  much  work  on  hand,  she  now  looks 
back  and  sees  how  idle  she  was,  and  how  little  she  could 
have  had  to  do,  for  they  could  not  always  keep  the  food  she 
cooked  from  spoiling.  The  only  thing  disagreeable  arose 
from  her  being  averse  to  study,  but  this  soon  was  forgotten 
by  her  getting  on  hand  a  job  of  work. 

The  baby  was  a  boy.  The  first  thing  she  did,  on  looking 
at  it,  was  to  feel  its  head,  and  then  to  endeavor  to  decide 
what  temperament  he  had.  He  was  a  pretty  fellow.  His 
body  was  white  as  milk,  his  hair  was  white,  but  it  would 
grow  dark,  and  he  was  as  plump  as  a  ripe  apple.  Every 
morning  he  had  to  be  washed  all  over  in  a  tub,  and  as  he 
seemed  to  like  to  have  the  water  drop  over  him,  while  he 
would  splash  in  it,  she  thought  that  if  it  was  deep  and  wide 
enough  he  might  swim ;  for  she  had  heard  that  every  young 
baby,  if  put  into  water  not  so  cold  as  to  shock  it,  will  swim 
a\vay  like  a  duck. 


THE    STEAMBOAT  CAPTAIN.  51 

They  gave  him  the  name  of  Charles.  The  next  child  was 
a  girl,  and  named  Alice,  the  next  Mary,  the  next  Arthur, 
and  there  were  others. 

After  preaching  seven  or  eight  years  Mr.  Moss  found  his 
health  failing.  To  write  two  sermons  every  week  was  more 
than  he  felt  he  could  continue  to  do ;  and  though  the  people 
liked  him  much,  he  decided  to  quit  preaching  and  remove 
to  a  warmer  country.  He  would  buy  some  land  and  become 
a  fanner,  an  occupation  which  he  had  followed  in  his  youth. 
He  thought  that  no  part  of  our  country  would  suit  him  so 
well  as  on  the  Ohio  River,  and  having  saved  money  enough 
for  this  purpose  he  went  thither. 

At  that  time,  much  was  said  about  the  beautiful  and  de- 
sirable locations  easy  to  be  obtained  on  the  banks  of  this 
river,  and  many  gentlemen  of  taste  and  leisure  selected  them. 
Mr.  Wirt's  picture  of  Blennerhasset's  Island  was  fresh  in 
many  minds,  and  they  thought  it  not  difficult  to  create 
homes  equally  beautiful.  But  some  important  matters  were 
not  foreseen.  Xowhere,  except  in  towns  and  in  a  few 
settlements,  was  there  anything  like  refined  society,  and 
schools  were  rare.  Often  the  country  is  broken  by  hills, 
or  divided  by  creeks,  which,  in  high  water,  can  be  crossed 
only  in  boats,  for  they  have  few  bridges,  and  all  bottoms 
overflow;  but  the  greatest  objection  lay  in  the  class  of 
people,  who  were  from  the  Slave  States. 

Mr.  Moss  was  fortunate  in  getting  a  farm  on  the  borders 
of  the  Ohio  Settlement.  The  land  was  partly  cleared  and 
was  good,  but  hard  work  was  required.  His  health  im- 
proved, and  he  labored  with  fair  prospects  of  making  him- 
self well  off.  He  had  great  advantages  in  being  able  to 
turn  to  his  books  when  weary,  and  of  restoring  his  strength 
through  a  new  supply  of  nervous  energy.  He  wisely  la- 
bored, and  wisely  studied. 

Delia  did  not  miss  much.  She  was  busy  in  her  household, 
and  she  took  delight  in  teaching  her  children  to  assist  her 
and  to  read.  Still  she  found  her  labors  too  constant  and 
exacting,  the  many  children  occupied  all  her  time,  and  for 


52  LIFE    IX    THE    WEST. 

several  years  she  scarcely  had  a  day  she  could  call  her  own. 
No  woman  ever  was  more  joyful  at  the  sight  of  her  first 
child  than  she,  for  she  had  wondered  and  waited,  but  the 
constant  care  it  required  wearied  her;  then,  when  others 
came,  she  felt  overwhelmed  with  the  demands  made  upon 
her.  Still  she  lived  through  it  all ;  her  husband  was  kind, 
frequently  there  were  glimmers  of  beautiful  light,  and  at 
last,  when  no  more  children  came,  she  was  nearly  as  glad 
as  she  was  at  the  sight  of  the  first,  and  her  spirits  sprang  up 
elastic.  No  tongue  ever  shall  describe  the  great  riches 
which  belong  to  a  family  where  study  is  united  with  industry, 
temperance  with  plenty,  and  where  cheerful  piety  is  the  rule 
and  guide. 

Charles  proved  to  be  a  good  boy,  and  apt  to  learn.  When 
two  or  three  years  old  he  was  in  the  habit  of  coming  to  his 
mother  and  asking  her  what  such  a  letter  was  called  ;  and 
when  she  thought  she  would  teach  him  the  letters,  she  was 
surprised  that  he  knew  them.  In  almost  the  same  way  he 
learned  to  read,  and  when  he  was  six  years  old  he  could 
•write. 

As  he  grew  older,  his  father  took  him  in  charge,  and  be- 
stowed upon  him  a  knowledge  of  common  branches  and  some 
Latin  and  Greek.  It  was  intended  to  give  him  an  education 
and  fit  him  for  a  profession — it  was  hoped  the  ministry ;  but 
as  he  grew  older  he  showed  an  important  defect,  which 
neither  of  his  parents  at  first  were  willing  to  see.  He  was 
extremely  careless  ;  he  had  no  order,  and  he  depended  upon 
seeing  quickly  more  than  upon  care.  He  placed  no  true 
value  on  his  books  or  clothes ;  when  he  was  set  about  any 
work  he  would  perform  it,  perhaps,  in  a  new  or  surprising 
way,  but  he  was  likely  to  do  some  damage  that  made  his 
labor  unprofitable.  His  father  had  tools  of  various  kinds, 
as  every  good  farmer  will  have,  and  Charles  handled  them 
with  great  ingenuity,  showing  himself  to  be  a  natural  me- 
chanic ;  but  he  would  waste  timber,  he  would  use  many  more 
nails  than  were  required,  and  he  left  the  nails  and  tools  scat- 
tered around.  1 1  is  father  was  saving  and  careful,  and  it 


THE    STEAMBOAT  CAPTAIX.  53 

pained  him  to  see  bis  son  so  much  to  the  contrary.  He 
talked  to  him  continually,  threatened  him,  and  punished 
him  mildly,  but  nothing  would  work  a  cure. 

On  one  occasion  he  became  so  vexed  that  he  got  a  good 
whip  and  laid  it  over  his  shoulders  heavy  and  long.  Delia 
and  all  the  children  came  running  to  see  what  was  the  mat- 
ter. How  could  he  ?  "What  had  the  poor  boy  been  doing 
to  deserve  such  a  beating  ?  The  girls  stood  round  wiping 
their  eyes  with  the  corners  of  their  aprons,  and  looking 
reproachfully  at  their  father.  At  first,  he  told  Delia  not  to 
interfere,  for,  if  she  did,  he  could  not  tell  what  would  hap- 
pen ;  then,  throwing  away  the  whip,  he  showed  them  a  piece 
of  writing  which  he  had  told  him  to  do,  which  was  little  more 
than  a  scrawl.  He  was  getting  worse  and  worse.  He  wrote 
better  five  years  before.  More  than  this,  he  was  defacing 
all  his  books ;  he  had  even  dared  to  write  in  the  library 
books,  and  he  was  scrawling  on  the  door,  the  window-casing, 
on  the  fence  and  everywhere.  If  it  was  good  writing  there 
might  be  some  excuse,  but  it  was  the  merest  scribble.  He 
had  whipped  him  soundly,  and  he  would  whip  him  every 
day  if  he  did  not  stop  such  work  or  learn  to  write  a  decent 
hand.  Certainly,  how  could  Charles  be  so  careless  and  not 
pay  attention  to  his  father  !  He  must  be  whipped  if  he 
would  not  mind. 

So  far  as  this  was  concerned,  it  was  one  of  the  best  things 
that  could  happen  to  the  young  man,  for  ever  afterward  he 
took  pains  with  his  writing,  and  he  learned  to  write  a  most 
beautiful  hand,  which,  when  it  became  settled,  his  father 
could  not  equal.  In  fact,  it  was  the  foundation  of  his  suc- 
cess in  life. 

When  Charles  was  about  sixteen,  his  father  sent  him  to 
Louisville  with  the  products  of  their  labors  on  the  farm  for 
the  year,  and  it  was  thought  an  opportunity  to  teach  him 
how  to  do  business,  while,  at  least,  the  charges  of  the  com- 
mission merchants  would  be  saved.  He  was  told  to  keep 
full  and  exact  accounts  of  expenses  and  receipts,  and  to  be 
careful  in  everything  besides.  This  was  his  first  trip  on  the 


54  LIFE   IN   THE   WEST. 

river  by  himself,  and  he  was  highly  pleased  with  the  under- 
taking. 

He  returned  safely,  and  handed  his  father  a  sum  of  money, 
but  no  accounts  of  any  kind.  "Why  did  he  not  do  as  he  was 
bid  ?  Well,  he  had  forgotten  it !  but  there  was  the  money, 
every  cent,  and  it  was  all  right.  It  was  counted.  It  would 
do.  But  more  was  expected.  What  were  the  expenses  ? 
Is  there  no  account  at  all  ?  Nothing  ?  Charles  felt  in  his 
pockets  and  pulled  out  some  letters  and  crumpled  papers. 
Yes,  here  is  the  account  of  passage  money.  Where  was  the 
little  book  he  took  ?  It  was  there.  His  father  took  it  and 
saw  nothing  but  a  description  of  the  Ohio  Falls,  with  some 
bad  spelling.  He  said  he  could  remember.  He  made  a 
verbal  statement.  A  balance  was  struck ;  it  might  he  right : 
could  he  tell  ?  He  said  he  could  tell  nothing  more  about  it. 
Then,  what  did  he  mean  by  doing  business  in  this  style  ? 
What  prevented  him  from  doing  as  he  was  told?  How  did 
he  expect  to  go  through  life  in  this  way?  He  was  sorry. 
He  would  never  do  so  again.  The  matter  wras  overlooked. 

About  this  time  he  was  sent  away  to  school.  It  was 
necessary,  at  least,  that  he  should  know  the  world.  After 
long  and  faithful  trials  his  father  became  satisfied  that  he 
was  doing  no  good.  It  is  true  he  learned  some,  and  he 
thought  he  was  learning  much.  He  spent  money  without 
giving  accounts,  notwithstanding  the  strictest  orders.  He 
seemed  to  have  a  mental  one-sidedness.  The  child  seemed 
to  mingle  with  the  youth.  It  was  clear  he  would  neither 
make  a  scholar  nor  a  man  of  business.  When  he  came  home, 
a  terrible  time  followed.  The  father,  mother  and  all, 
were  discouraged  and  out  of  patience.  Mr.  Moss  said  he 
regretted  the  loss  of  the  money  more  than  anything  else,  for 
it  would  have  done  the  other  children  so  much  good. 

In  other  respects,  Charles  was  a  fine  young  man.  He  had 
read  much ;  his  memory  was  good ;  he  had  a  way  uncom- 
monly attractive,  while  he  was  good-looking;  and,  from 
what  he  related,  it  was  evident  he  had  made  many  fric-nds. 
So  far  as  his  father  ever  could  see  or  learn,  he  was  pure  in 


THE   STEAMBOAT    CAPTAIN.  55 

his  morals;  his  tastes,  for  the  most  part,  were  correct,  and 
though  he  had  not  then  professed  religion,  he  was  not  the 
least  inclined  to  scepticism.  Such  cases  are  not  so  rare  as 
many  might  think,  though  the  defects  may  be  different  and 
less  glaring.  With  them,  twenty-one  is  a  very  tender  age  ; 
that  they  shave  is  nothing. 

From  what  has  been  said,  it  may  seem  strange  that 
Charles  should  get  it  into  his  head  that  a  business  life 
would  suit  him  better  than  any  other.  His  father  laughed 
at  him,  and  his  mother  asked  him  how  long  he  would  keep 
a  situation,  for  he  need  not  expect  his  father  would  intrust 
him  with  money.  Oh  !  he  was  going  to  learn  ;  lie  knew  he 
could  learn.  He  could  make  so  much  money.  He  thought 
he  would  like  to  be  a  clerk  on  a  steamboat.  His  father 
smiled. 

About  this  time  Alfred  Welch,  who  became  a  pilot,  visited 
in  the  familv,  and  he  fell  in  love  with  the  oldest  daughter 
Alice.  In  every  respect  she  was  amiable ;  she  improved  in 
her  studies,  and,  when  sent  away  to  school,  she  made  great 
progress ;  but  her  health  declined.  She  had  to  come  home, 
and  then  Alfred  first  saw  her.  He  and  Charles  became  good 
friends,  and  both  agreed  they  would  like  to  follow  the  river. 
Alfred  soon  got  the  situation  of  pilot's  apprentice,  but  Mr. 
Moss  woiild  not  let  Charles  go,  and  told  him  he  must  stay 
at  home  till  he.  was  of  age,  for  not  only  did  he  need  him,  but 
it  would  be  unwise  to  let  him  go  into  the  world  with  the 
careless  habits  he  had  acquired.  He  should  learn  by  expe- 
rience how  to  place  a  value  on  property,  and  what  it  is  to 
earn  one's  living  by  the  sweat  of  the  brow. 

Charles  did  not  complain  a  word.  He  went  to  work 
earnestly.  He  was  always  cheerful ;  even  when  night  came, 
and  he  was  tired,  he  was  gay.  He  was  the  life  of  their 
society.  To  go  out  into  the  fields  and  breathe  the  air  of  the 
hills  enlivened  him ;  to  sing  and  talk  in  young  company 
made  others  happy.  To  swim  in  the  river,  even  when  the 
water  was  chilly,  was  almost  a  necessity.  Often  after  a 
hard  day's  work  he  would  swim  to  the  old  Kentucky  shore. 


56  LIFE   IN  THE   WEST. 

He  had  a  boat  with  a  sail,  and  he  was  pleased  if  he  could 
get  out  all  the  family  and  run  around  the  island;  but  he 
was  more  pleased  to  take  his  mother  alone ;  he  would  pre- 
pare her  the  nicest  and  softest  seat,  and  away  they  would 
go.  At  such  times  she  would  gaze  fondly  upon  him  and 
lemember.  To  his  sisters  he  was  almost  as  attentive  as  a 
lover,  and  they  always  attended  to  his  remarks  on  their 
dress  or  behaviour.  He  taught  them  to  stand  and  sit 
straight.  In  such  things  he  was  precise.  He  would  never 
go  to  the  post-office  at  the  landing,  or  to  mill,  unless  he 
blackened  his  boots  and  made  himself  look  nice. 

At  last  Mr.  Moss  thought  he  would  intrust  him  with 
another  shipment  of  produce.  The  season  had  been  favor- 
able, they  had  worked  hard,  and  much  profit  was  expected. 
Seven  full  wagon-loads  were  hauled  to  the  landing.  Charles 
bade  them  good-by,  promising  to  come  back  with  a  plenty 
of  money. 

When  he  returned,  the  boat  landed  at  the  front  of  the 
door, — which  was  a  surprise,  as  the  landing  was  so  near, — 
and  he  came  in  with  good  spirits ;  still  his  father  saw  that 
something  was  the  matter.  Was  he  well  ?  Yes,  but  he  was 
tired.  How  did  he  make  out  ?  First-rate  ;  there  was  the 
money,  every  cent,  it  was  all  right.  It  was  counted.  "  Is 
this  all  ?  "  "Yes."  "  Well,  let  us  have  the  accounts."  He 
had  none.  "  None  ?  "  He  was  not  told  to  keep  any  this 
time;  but  it  was  all  right, — he  had  sold  at  the  top  of  the 
market,  and  he  had  lost  none.  "If  ever — ".  There  was 
blank  astonishment  through  the  whole  family ;  no  one  could 
speak.  The  father  was  the  first  to  break  out.  It  need  not 
be  repeated.  After  the  storm  died  a  little,  Charles  and  his 
father  spent  several  hours  in  making  an  account.  There  were 
several  hundred  dollars  ;  so  much  was  saved.  They  figured 
long,  added,  substracted,  remembered,  corrected  ;  it  might 
be  right,  it  might  be  wrong,  —  who  knew? 

The  father  lost  all  confidence  in  him.  What  was  he  good 
for  ?  nothing,  nothing.  He  should  go  to  work.  A  pretty 
business-man  he  would  make  !  He  said  he  felt  bad  enough; 


THE   STEAMBOAT   CAPTAIN.  57 

when  he  should  go  for  himself  he  would  pay  it  all  back ;  no- 
body should  lose  anything  by  him.  The  father  said  he  would 
be  glad  if  he  could  take  care  of  himself;  he  doubted  not  that 
he  would  have  to  help  him. 

After  a  little,  Mr.  Moss  learned  through  Delia  that  he  was 
offered  the  situation  of  second  clerk  on  a  steamboat.  Not 
while  he  was  responsible  for  his  conduct  should  he  stir  a 
step.  But  he  did  not  know  how  much  they  wanted  him,  nor 
how  much  they  thought  of  him. 

This  was  true.  Business  men  really  did  take  a  fancy  to 
Charles.  They  saw  in  him  the  rare  qualities  of  patience  and 
a  desire  to  please  ;  he  had  every  appearance  of  being  honest. 
Such  a  one  could  not  fail  to  attract.  When  he  should  get 
experience  he  ought  to  command  great  wages. 

At  last,  Charles  talked  with  his  father  about  it.  He  said 
he  told  them  he  was  not  fit  to  do  business,  but  they  said  he 
could  learn  ;  if  he  would  only  agree  to  come,  they  would  be 
to  the  expense  of  sending  him  to  a  commercial  college ;  that 
would  prepare  him.  Did  his  father  not  see  what  a  chance 
this  was, — and  one  not  likely  to  come  again  ?  There  did 
seem  something  in  it ;  but  only  look,  for  one  moment,  —  re- 
flect. True,  true ; — well,  he  would  be  tAventy-one  by-and-by.- 
Still,  if  his  father  would  let  him  go  he  would  give  all  the 
money  he  got.  The  father  reflected ;  he  was  afraid  of  being 
made  responsible  for  some  careless  act ;  better  woi-k  for  ten 
cents  a  day,  than  fail  in  such  a  station.  Delia  helped  Charles ; 
of  course  she  could  not  say  much,  but  she  leaned  on  his  side 
a  little.  At  last,  he  might  go,  on  the  condition  that  he 
got  a  writing  from  his  employers  that  the  father  should  not 
be  responsible.  No,  that  would  not  do;  —  it  would  disgrace 
the  family ;  and  he  did  not  wish  to  avoid  responsibility.  He 
was  his  son,  and  he  would  take  care  of  him;  he  would  ne- 
glect his  duty  if  he  did  not  decide  as  it  seemed  best.  He 
should  not  go  at  all ;  he  should  keep  at  work.  There  was 
time  enough ;  why  should  young  men  hasten  to  plunge  into 
the  troubles  of  the  world  ?  Charles  worked  on  as  before ;  he 
did  not  take  it  to  heart.  Then  letters  arrived  inviting  him 


58  LIFE   IN   THE   WEST. 

to  come.  The  offer  was  tempting.  It  was  hard.  Finally, 
he  might  go,  —  but,  for  the  sake  of  the  girls,  for  the  sake 
of  father  and  mother  growing  old,  he  must  not  act  so  as  to 
bring  wretchedness  and  disgrace.  He  could  not  have  a  mo- 
ment's peace  in  this  life  if  he  should  bring  them  to  poverty. 
If  this  was  likely,  he  would  not  go,  he  would  stay — he  ought 
to  stay ;  it  was  all  right. 

At  this  time  Alfred  came  home  to  spend  the  summer 
months,  and  he  visited  Alice  daily.  Alas !  she  had  the 
consumption.  Every  one  could  see  that  she  must  die.  She 
lingered  till  autumn,  when  she  died.  The  very  moment 
she  passed  away,  she  made  a  remark  that  she  was  dying. 
Alfred  held  one  hand,  her  mother  the  other.  For  years 
Alfred  mourned.  The  family  had  to  console  each  other; 
separation  was  not  to  be  thought  of. 

In  the  spring,  Alfred  got  the  place  and  wages  of  a  first- 
class  pilot.  He  was  known  by  all,  and  his  influence  was 
great.  He  told  the  company  why  they  could  not  get  Charles. 
Immediately  the  trouble  was  overcome,  and  Charles  went  to 
a  commercial  college.  He  studied  faithfully,  and  made  him- 
self master  of  bookkeeping,  copartnership,  and  everything 
relating  to  steamboat  business. 

During  the  first  season  he  was  entry  clerk.  The  next  sea- 
son he  was  first  clerk.  He  succeeded  well  There  was  no 
other  such  clerk  on  the  rivers.  Whoever  knew  him  wanted 
to  ride  on  his  boat ;  they  would  often-  wait  days,  or  a  week. 
No  one  ever  was  more  guarded  or  careful  in  doing  business ; 
and  yet  he  was  rapid.  Often  he  would  lie  awake  thinking 
of  figures  and  books,  or  jump  up  to  examine  them  and  count 
over  the  money.  He  would  rather  lose  a  thousand  dollars 
of  his  own  money  than  a  dime  belonging  to  the  boat.  He 
felt  that  his  life  was  at  stake ;  and  with  this  was  connected 
the  hopes,  the  fears  and  the  interests  of  the  family.  He  was 
going  to  show  them  that  he  could  do  business.  What  was 
past  was  past ;  the  present  and  the  future  he  could  control. 

Formerly,  steamboat  clerks,  captains,  and  almost  all  hands, 
had  united  to  rob  the  owners.  This  was  so  common,  that  it 


THE   STEAMBOAT    CAPTAIN.  59 

was  said  a  clerk  could  not  hold  his  place  unless  he  would 
steal  half.  A  change  had  taken  place.  Owners  themselves 
had  been  obliged  to  go  as  clerks.  The  whole  business  was 
reorganized.  Men  of  greater  moral  principle  run  the  boats ; 
rough  and  profane  officers  began  to  disappear;  elegance 
of  furniture,  and  decorations  and  sumptuous  tables,  were 
united  with  gentlemanly,  and  often  high-toned  Christian 
clerks  and  commanders.  Charles  had  found  his  place. 

On  the  coast,  above  Baton  Rouge,  Charles  became  ac- 
quainted with  a  planter's  daughter  named  Lillie  Gibson,  and 
fell  in  love  with  her.  She  could  speak  French  and  Spanish 
as  well  as  English.  She  dressed  beautifully,  and  was  a 
handsome  and  good  girl.  She  didn't  know  about  marrying 
a  steamboat  clerk ;  if  he  was  an  owner  he  might  do ;  but 
papa  had  money  and  he  could  buy  her  a  boat.  She  would 
wait  and  see.  While  she  was  waiting  she  fell  deeper  in 
love  with  him.  This  was  in  the  winter.  The  boat  was 
carrying  cotton  all  the  season  from  the  neighboring  planta- 
tions, for,  with  Charles  aboard,  they  would  get  all  they 
could  carry. 

Mr.  Moss  and  his  family  rejoiced  in  his  success.  Charles 
was  something  after  all.  Meanwhile,  terrible  blows  threat- 
ened the  family.  The  rest  of  the  girls  were  likely  to  have 
the  consumption,  and  go  the  way  of  Alice.  Some  had  scro- 
fulous swellings  in  their  necks,  others  had  runnings  from 
their  ears.  This  was  the  way  with  Alice.  It  was  a  here- 
ditary taint.  The  close  rooms  and  indoor  employment  oi 
the  New  England  women  have  planted  this  disease  in  the 
veins  of  many,  if  not  all,  of  their  people.  The  minister  saw 
that  the  women  from  the  South  had  little  of  this.  They 
had  a  plenty  of  exercise,  for  there  are  few  who  did  not  work 
out  doors,  at  least  in  their  gardens.  He  saw  it  after  long 
reflection.  His  wife  saw  but  faintly.  She  had  brought  up 
her  girls  in  the  New  England  fashion.  She  thought  that 
reform  in  diet  should  save  them  from  the  scourge.  That 
was  not  enough.  It  was  their  fathers  who  should  have  re- 
formed, or,  thev  should  not  have  abandoned  old  customs. 


60  LIFE    IN    THE    WEST. 

Sweet  rye  and  Indian  bread  had  ceased  to  be  good  enough. 
The  minister  made  up  his  mind.  Here  is  a  new  side- 
saddle. This  horse  is  gentle.  You  puny  thing,  get  on  him, 
and  go  to  the  post-office.  Why,  father,  can  she  ride  a 
horse  ?  Let  her  try,  let  her  try.  Come,  get  on.  No  more 
buggy  rides.  One  of  these  sucker  women,  as  you  call  them, 
is  worth  a  shipload  of  such  stitching,  embroidering,  little- 
fingered,  flat-breasted  creatures.  So  far  as  the  Southern 
women  go,  they  are  right.  We  want  no  nerves  that  are 
nervous,  no  muscles  that  are  nerves.  We  want  nervous 
nerves  and  muscular  muscles.  It  is  surprising,  mothei-,  how 
much  better  I  feel ;  perhaps  father  is  right.  So  it  was  the 
next  day,  and  every  day.  Two  more  side-saddles  were 
bought.  How  much  better  Mary  does  look — the  black  is 
almost  gone  from  under  her  eyes,  and  the  swelling  on  her 
neck  is  most  out  of  sight.  Emily's  eais  are  getting  better 
fast.  True  enough.  They  have  more  blood.  In  riding,  they 
catch  breath,  with  every  step  of  the  horse  their  lungs  ex- 
pand ;  to  fill  them,  more  blood  is  required.  To  make  more 
blood,  they  must  eat  more  then,  must  ride  more,  or  stir 
around.  Your  school  exercises  of  slapping  hands  and  the 
like  amount  to  nothing  ;  they  never  can  help.  God  never 
intended,  or  made  the  human  body  to  be  healthful  by  any 
such  means.  To  undertake  it  is  to  climb  over  the  wall  like 
a  thief  and  a  robber.  Come,  girls,  every  one  of  you,  help 
me  rake  up  this  hay,  then  you  shall  help  load  and  mow 
it  away.  Isn't  that  too  bad,  father  ?  Likely  enough ;  but 
Charles  is  gone,  Arthur  is  over-worked,  and  there  is  no 
other  way.  They  must  take  hold  and  work.  By-and-by 
the  corn  must  be  gathered,  they  must  get  their  hands 
ready.  Mother  need  not  say  much  or  she  will  get  a  call. 
If  they  want  amusement  let  them  ride.  The  consumption 
must  be  taken  out  of  them,  and  it  shall  be.  If  the  New 
England  people  go  on  in  the  present  way  they  will  be  ex- 
terminated. The  reason  why  society  progi'esses  so  slowly  is 
because  the  human  race  has  to  be  kept  up  by  ignorant 
laboring  people,  Get  your  rakoss. 


THE    STEAMBOAT    CAPTAIN.  61 

Charles  prospered.  He  bad  high  wages.  He  sent  his 
money  home  for  his  father  to  keep.  In  addition,  he  specu- 
lated. He  bought  produce  in  Cincinnati  and  St.  Louis  and 
sold  it  in  the  lower  country.  At  first  he  made ;  next  he 
lost.  It  was  very  uncertain  business.  At  last,  he  would 
agree  to  deliver  nothing,  except  on  a  written  contract, 
to  fill  which  he  had  optional  ones  at  the  North.  In  this 
way  he  was  safe.  In  one  year  he  made  nearly  five  thousand 
dollars. 

In  his  love  affair  he  could  get  no  decision.  Lillie's  father 
liked  him ;  he  never  saw  a  man  he  liked  better.  But  he 
must  stand  higher,  he  must  be  part  or  principal  owner  in  a 
steamboat.  Then  he  could  have  his  daughter.  Of  course 
it  would  take  money — a  big  pile  of  it ;  he  wouldn't  mind 
going  in  as  one  of  three  himself.  Had  he  no  friend  who 
would  take  a  share  ?  Yes,  Alfred  had  talked  of  such  a  mat- 
ter. Alfred  was  seen,  he  was  willing.  The  matter  was 
arranged.  Of  course  Charles  was  to  be  the  captain.  From 
the  first  it  was  agreed  that  the  boat  should  be  called  the 
LILLIE  GIBSON.  There  was  no  higher  ambition  among  the 
Southern  belles  than  to  have  a  steamboat  bear  their  names. 
How  extremely  fortunate  did  Charles  consider  himself.  The 
contract  was  signed  in  New  Orleans.  The  father  and  daugh- 
ter came  up  in  the  boat.  Before  they  landed,  Charles  found 
Lillie  in  her  state  room ;  he  kissed  her,  and  O,  the  joy  of  it — 
she  kissed  him.  The  plantation  extended  for  miles  along 
the  river.  Their  house  was  grand,  and  surrounded  by  trees, 
shrubberies,  and  flowers.  There  were  hundreds  of  slaves. 
The  cotton  they  raised  some  years  loaded  a  boat.  Such  a 
splendid  home  ;  such  magnificent  people  seldom  are  seen  on 
the  American  continent. 

The  boat  was  to  be  built  at  Cincinnati.  Charles  wanted 
to  build  a  first-class  boat,  but  he  saw  they  could  not  do  it ; 
they  would  have  to  borrow  some  as  they  stood.  They  might 
build  one  of  the  second  class,  but  it  should  be  fast ;  it  must 
be  finished  without  a  fault.  Men  were  set  to  work.  They 
hoped  to  mnke  the  first  trip  early  the  next  spring. 


62  '  LIFE    IX    THE    WEST. 

Charles  came  to  visit  the  old  folks  and  get  his  money. 
He  wanted  his  father  to  be  paid  for  what  he  had  lost  on  the 
produce.  His  father  would  not  think  of  it.  He  was  build- 
ing a  boat.  He  confessed  they  would  have  to  borrow  ;  that 
they  could  do.  He  would  learn  something  by  the  time  he 
got  through. 

Charles  had  to  tell  his  mother  and  girls  all  about  his  wife 
that  was  to  be.  Would  she  ever  come  to  see  them?  Charles 
looked  around  the  room — perhaps.  Oh,  no,  she  never  would 
come  hither ;  she  would  be  frightened  to  sleep  in  our  poor 
home.  Well,  they  were  glad  he  was  so  fortunate,  and  that 
he  was  going  to  be  so  happy.  Of  course  she  would  be 
happy,  Charles  was  so  good.  If  they  should  have  children 
it  might  be  different :  then  perhaps  she  might  come. 

Charles  wrote  every  week.  The  boat  was  launched ; 
they  were  getting  in  the  boilers  and  engines.  But  it  cost 
much  money.  They  thought  they  would  work  it  through. 
She  would  pay  for  herself  the  first  season. 

Tn  February  a  steamboat  stopped,  and  Charles  came  up 
to  the  house.  He  looked  thin  and  care-worn.  After  shak- 
ing hands  and  kissing  round,  he  wanted  to  know  where 
father  was.  They  must  have  more  money,  no  matter  at 
what  interest.  Had  father  got  any  ?  Rather  blank  answer, 
that  he  had.  Did  they  know  how  much?  Not  exactly. 
Whither  did  he  go,  when  was  he  coming  back  ?  He  went 
after  wood,  he  was  coming  down  the  hill. 

A  pale,  anxious  son,  shaking  hands  with  a  mild,  hearty 
father.  Mr.  Moss  had  the  peculiar  Vermont  smile  on  his 
face,  which  is  both  good-natured  and  shrewd.  He  had  be- 
lieved that,  sooner  or  later,  his  son  would  come  for  money. 
There  was  not  much  visiting.  Charles  was  hard  run.  The 
boat  was  nearly  finished.  Their  own  means  had  run  out. 
They  had  got  as  much  accommodation  as  they  wished  to 
ask  for.  Mr.  Gibson  had  done  something — they  would  not 
apply  again.  Now,  if  father  and  Alfred's  father  would 
undersign,  they  could  get  along.  Had  Alfred's  father,  Mr. 
Welch,  been  seen  ?  Alfred  wrote  to  him  and  he  referred 


THE   STEAMBOAT   CAPTAIN.  63 

the  matter  to  father.  How  much  was  wanted  ?  The  sum 
was  named.  There  was  a  long  silence.  At  last,  why  this 
was  what  a  good  farm  was  worth.  But  they  would  not 

have  it  to  pay.  Very  true;  but  if .  It  was  no  use. 

But  had  he  no  money?  O  yes,  a  little.  The  fact  was, 
steamboat  men  must  help  each  other.  It  is  no  place  to  go 
to  farmers,  who  have  labored  their  whole  lives  to  get  a 
home.  Merchants  and  bankers  have  got  rich  out  of  the 
farmers ;  they  were  the  men  to  make  commercial  ventures. 
There  was  no  wisdom  in  a  farmer  investing  in  matters  of 
which  he  could  have  no  knowledge.  He  could  not  do  it. 
The  home  must  not  be  put  in  jeopardy ;  he  might  want  to 
come  to  it  himself  some  day.  Some  of  them  always  would 
want  it,  so  he  could  do  nothing ;  how  could  he  ?  It  was  a 
pity  that  at  this  point  they  should  fail.  Ah  !  that  was  the 
Baltic  coming  up;  he  must  get  aboard.  Couldn't  father 
come  up  and  see  the  boat — see  what  they  had  done  ?  Charles 
was  surprised  to  hear  him  say  that  he  would  come  up.  He 
would  start  the  next  day.  Farewells  and  kisses  were  ex- 
changed. Our  son's  face  seemed  to  lighten  as  if  with  hope. 

Mr.  Moss  went  to  Mr.  Welch,  and  they  talked  long  to- 
gether. They  thought  they  might  do  something.  They  put 
what  they  had  together ;  it  was  from  the  sales  of  wheat  for 
several  years.  It  should  be  ready  cash  or  nothing.  By  no 
means  would  they  risk  anything  else.  If  this  were  lost,  it 
would  matter  little;  they  could  live  on  the  old  farm  the 
same  as  when  the. money  was  lying  idle.  The  time  to  help 
boys  most  was  not  when  they  were  starting,  and  could  do 
well,  but  after  they  had  started,  after  they  had  done  well, 
and  were  come  to  a  tight  pinch.  They  knew  this  before ; 
they  had  prepared  for  it. 

Mr.  Moss  went  to  Cincinnati.  He  was  dressed  in  a  neat 
black  suit,  with  a  minister's  white  handkerchief  around  his 
neck.  He  went  into  the  boat-yard  and  was  walking  around. 
The  workmen  thought  lie  belonged  to  the  Bethel  church. 
Charles  saw  him  at  a  distance,  but  did  not  know  him ;  be- 
sides, he  was  busy  picking  up  spikes  and  nails.  His  father 


64  LIFE   IN   THE   WEST. 

thought  this  a  good  sign.  At  last  he  had  come  to  attach  a 
value  to  things.  They  met ;  Chai'les  was  proud  to  take  his 
father  all  around,  —  but  not  quite  so  proud  as  he  used  to  be 
to  show  how  he  could  swim,  or  to  fix  his  mother's  seat  and 
sail  away  with  her.  The  engines  were  ready,  they  had  taken 
the  boat  out  on  a  trial  trip.  They  were  fixing  some  things  ; 
in  the  cabin  workmen  were  busy  painting  and  gilding.  The 
state-rooms  needed  spring-mattresses  and  furniture.  They 
could  get  time  on  a  part,  but  the  workmen  needed  their 
pay ;  they  could  get  money  by  a  mortgage,  but  they  dreaded 
to  give  it.  Alfred  came  in.  The  minister  had  great  confi- 
dence in  him. 

Then  he  wanted  to  see  accounts.  Everything  was  ready 
for  inspection,  and  in  that  fair  round  hand  which  cost  some- 
thing. He  enquired  cautiously  of  others,  and  with  fail- 
business  tact;  he  took  time;  in  two  days  he  sifted  their 
affairs.  Finally  he  was  satisfied,  and  he  paid  them  a  good 
sum.  It  was  more  than  they  expected.  Heavy  though  it 
was,  it  made  their  hearts  light. 

The  health  of  the  girls  had  so  improved  and  their  appeai'- 
ance  was  so  changed  that  they  looked  like  new  creatures. 
They  could  eat  anything,  and  when  farm-work  hurried,  they 
would  go  out  and  labor  well.  Their  beaux  learned  not  to 
come  on  a  visit  in  a  buggy,  for  if  they  did  they  would  get  on 
their  horses ;  they  must  come  on  horseback, — and  with  good 
horses  too,  or  they  would  run  away  from  them,  for  they 
preferred  to  ride  the  highest-spirited  horses  on  the  farm.  O 
that  Alice  could  come  back !  Many  good  things  resulted. 
When  they  read,  wrote,  sang,  or  played,  they  did  so  with 
pleasure  and  profit.  They  were  healthful  and  strong ;  thin, 
small  shoes  would  not  do  for  them.  They  themselves  made 
many  things  which  others  buy ;  for  some  things  they  had  no 
use.  They  lacked  neither  politeness  nor  grace.  Similar  is 
the  result  when  the  farmer  carefully  cleans  the  wheat  he 
is  to  sow.  It  was  a  frequent  remark  of  the  minister,  that, 
naturally,  all  things  seek  a  worse  condition. 

The  Lillie   Gibson  did  not  come    down  so  soon   as  was 


THE   STEAMBOAT   CAPTAIX.  65 

expected;  there  had  been  delays.  At  last  a  letter  stated 
what  day  they  might  be  expected,  though  they  could  not 
tell  how  she  would  run  ;  they  could  be  ready  by  10  o'clock. 
The  girls  were  going  to  New-Orleans  on  this  first  trip ;  their 
dresses  were  made  in  time,  and  nothing  remained  but  fifty 
or  sixty  little  things,  which  they  thought  they  could  finish 
aboard.  They  had  got  up  early  and  put  on  their  traveling- 
dresses,  and  were  eating  breakfast,  when  there  was  a  disap- 
pointment—  a  heavy  fog  hid  the  sun  and  settled  down  on 
the  river. 

A  calliope  is  a  steam-organ ;  and  it  is  generally  placed 
on  the  hurricane  deck,  in  front  of  one  of  the  chimneys.  The 
keys  are  similar  to  those  of  the  organ,  and  the  whole  is 
of  iron  and  steel ;  the  music  is  made  by  steam  running 
through  a  pipe  from  the  boilers.  The  airs  usually  played 
are  of  a  popular,  lively  kind;  the  music  is  piping  and  grand, 
and  can  be  heard  a  long  distance.  Breakfast  was  scarcely 
over,  when  all  were  startled  by  music  on  the  river.  The 
north  door  was  opened.  A  boat  was  coming  down  past 
the  landing,  but  the  fog  hid  everything.  The  wonder  was 
if  this  could  be  the  boys'  boat ;  it  is  not  customary  for  boats 
to  run  in  a  heavy  fog, — it  must  be  Charles's  boat,  and  Alfred 
was  the  pilot,  he  knew  the  river  so  well.  When  past  the 
landing,  the  music  ceased,  and  they  could  hear  the  heavy, 
guttural  puffing.  It  was  coming  down  on  them  very  fast. 
Just  above  them  the  music  burst  out  again.  They  listened, 
but  nothing  could  be  seen.  The  father  asked  what  tune  it 
was.  Didn't  he  know?  it  was  —  "Out  of  the  Wilderness." 
Then  he  knew  whose  boat  it  was. 

The  Lillie  Gibson  passed  swiftly  by ;  at  the  same  time 
she  was  rounding  to.  The  sounds  of  the  music  receded,  and 
the  echoes  of  the  hills  of  Illinois  answered  those  of  the 
wooded  Kentucky  shore.  Then  the  music  came  nearer. 
They  could  not  mistake.  Hastily  the  girls'  trunks  were  car- 
ried down  to  the  river,  and  they  followed  with  their  satchels 
crammed  with  unfinished  work. 

There  is  good  landing  anywhere  on  this  shore ;  but  tho 


66  LIFE   IN    THE   WEST. 

pilot  needed  to  understand  it  well  to  run  in  that  thick  fog. 
The  family  stood  waiting.  All  at  once  they  saw  high  in  the 
air  the  tops  of  two  tall  chimneys,  their  red  and  green  lamps 
still  burning ;  then  on  a  sudden  the  whole  boat  came  out  of 
the  fog.  Even  when  the  sun  shines  there  is  no  work  of  art 
which  makes  a  more  magnificent  sight  than  one  of  these 
steamers.  The  Lillie  Gibson  seemed  like  an  apparition. 
Her  upper  decks  were  crowded  with  newly  painted  wagons, 
ploughs  and  farming  machinery  for  the  cotton  and  sugar 
plantations,  and  below  were  barrels  of  pork  and  flour  and 
boxes  of  dry-goods,  while,  by  the  sound,  there  was  a  drove 
of  mules  aboard.  A  crowd  of  folks  were  out  on  the  guards. 

While  the  family  was  beholding  these  things,  and  while 
the  steam-whistle  was  screeching  in  the  most  awful  manner, 
a  man  jumped  ashore  with  a  rope  and  took  a  turn  around  a 
tree,  where  he  stood,  and  a  crowd  of  men  were  shoving  out 
the  staging,  when  Charles  ran  along  it,  and  coming  to  the 
end  jumped  to  the  land.  The  passengers  smiled  to  see  him 
kiss  so  many  girls,  and  when  they  saw  him  kiss  one  who 
was  not  a  girl,  they  knew  it  must  be  his  mother.  There  was 
no  time  for  much  speaking.  The  fog  was  breaking  away, 
the  girls  and  their  trunks  were  hurried  aboard,  while  Charles 
lingered  to  talk  with  his  father.  He  was  happy  to  receive 
his  approbation.  The  pilot  tapped  the  bell,  and  yet  the 
captain  lingered.  He  was  listening  to  these  words:  "He 
that  walketh  righteously  and  speaketh  uprightly,  he  that 
despiseth  the  gain  of  the  oppressor,  that  shaketh  his  hand 
from  holding  bribes,  that  stoppeth  his  ears  from  hearing  of 
blood,  and  shutteth  his  eyes  from  seeing  evil,  he  shall  dwell 
on  high,  his  place  of  defence  shall  be  munitions  of  rocks, 
bread  shall  be  given  him,  his  waters  shall  be  sure." 

The  Lillie  Gibson  having  a  full  and  through  cargo,  did 
not  delay,  and  she  only  lauded  to  take  or  leave  passengers. 
Being  a  new  boat,  she  attracted  great  attention,  and  the 
captain  and  pilot  were  greeted  by  many  friends.  Some 
urged  that,  for  once,  they  ought  to  break  the  rule,  good 
though  it  was,  and  take  a  social  glass.  The  reply  was,  that 


THE    STEAMBOAT  CAPTAIX.  67 

if  in  observing  the  rule  they  had  been  prosperous,  they 
ought  not  now  to  disregard  it  for  fear  of  what  might  hap- 
pen— or,  did  they  not  see  there  was  no  bar  aboard  ? 

It  was  important  for  the  reputation  of  the  boat  that  she 
should  make  the  trip  as  soon  as  possible.  It  was  evident  that 
she  was  making  good  time,  and,  as  they  drew  near  Mr.  Gib- 
son's plantation,  they  could  boast  that  the  Lillie  was  nearly 
as  fast  as  any  on  the  Western  waters. 

Lillie  and  her  father  had  been  advised  by  telegraph,  both 
from  Memphis  and  Vicksburg,  at  what  time  the  boat  would 
arrive,  and  she  drew  near  at  the  expected  hour.  It  was  a 
great  day  on  the  plantation.  All  the  slaves  were  paraded 
on  the  bank,  dressed  in  their  best  clothes.  The  calliope 
sounded  as  grandly  here  as  on  the  Ohio ;  but,  the  river  being 
wider,  Alfred  gave  a  more  grand  flourish  in  rounding  to. 
Lillie,  and  her  father,  mother,  and  two  brothers,  were  wait- 
ing, and  they  felt  proud  of  the  captain  as  they  saw  him  on 
the  lofty  deck ;  nor  did  they  tire  in  spelling  the  large  letters 
of  the  name  of  Lillie  Gibson.  Charles,  seeing  from  his  sta- 
tion the  evidences  of  vast  wealth,  was  struck  with  the  con- 
trast when  he  compared  the  scene  to  his  father's  limited  farm 
on  the  Ohio  hills.  But  he  felt  a  joyous  pride  in  being  able, 
at  last,  to  bring  before  their  door  his  boat,  fresh  and  new, 
and  named  after  the  dear  lady  who  was  the  daughter  of  the 
man  who  was  so  rich  and  grand. 

The  family  were  going  to  N"ew  Orleans,  and  as  speed  was 
what  all  required,  they  hurried  aboard.  When  Charles's  sis- 
ters first  came  into  the  cabin  they  were  received  with  marked 
attention,  and  by  their  polite  behavior  and  intelligence  won 
the  esteem  of  all.  But  the  great  sensation  of  the  passage 
was  when  Mr.  Gibson  and  his  family  came  through  the  cabin 
doors,  and  Lillie  was  pointed  out  as  the  lady  after  whom  this 
tine  boat  of  ours  is  named.  Whomsoever  she  addressed  or 
looked  upon  was  honored,  and  it  was  thought  something  to 
be  brushed  by  her  clothes.  At  the  table,  nothing  was  too 
good  for  her — whatever  she  requested  was  handed  with  de- 
light ;  smiles,  bows,  and  the  kindest  wishes  met  her  on  every 


68  LIFE   IN  THE   WEST. 

hand.  Her  father  was  scarcely  less  observed,  and  her  bro- 
thers were  looked  upon  with  admiration  and  respect. 

After  a  little,  the  Northern  passengers  were  surprised  to 
find  the  family  both  sociable  and  amiable.  They  had  no 
haughty,  ill-bred  airs ;  they  treated  none  as  superiors,  and 
they  engaged  as  freely  in  conversation  as  if  all  were  equals, 
and  had  been  acquainted  long.  The  truth  is,  they  knew  how  to 
behave,  and  none  better  than  they  could  afford  to  condescend. 

Lillie,  in  particular,  was  charming.  When  the  captain's 
sisters  were  introduced  to  her,  she  shook  each  by  both  hands 
and  kissed  them,  and  in  every  way  expressed  her  delight  in 
seeing  them.  Perhaps  she  felt  that  she  stooped ;  she  did  not 
stoop.  Lillie's  father  and  mother  paid  them  great  attention, 
and  the  girls  confessed  to  each  other  that  they  had  been 
deceived  with  regard  to  the  Southern  people.  In  no  society 
had  they  seen  folks  whom  they  liked  so  well. 

Charles  was  busy  in  attending  to  his  duties ;  he  would  see 
that  nothing  was  left  undone,  and  the  minutes  were  few  in 
which  Lillie  could  see  him.  She  complained,  and  once  caught 
him  by  the  ear,  as  if  he  was  a  bad  boy. 

The  Lillie  Gibson  reached  New  Orleans  in  a  time  so  short 
as  to  secure  most  favorable  notice  in  the  daily  papers.  As 
a  consequence,  freight  for  a  return  trip,  as  well  as  a  good 
passenger  list,  was  offered.  She  was  quickly  unloaded  and 
reloaded,  and  in  a  few  days,  with  colors  flying  and  music 
playing,  she  started  for  the  North. 

Charles  expected  Lillie  would  fix  upon  a  day  when  they 
would  be  married ;  but  Mr.  Gibson  plainly  told  him  that  he 
must  wait  till  he  should  earn  enough  to  pay  all  the  debts, 
and  to  purchase  from  the  pilot  his  share ;  then  he  could  have 
his  daughter.  Charles  thought  this  was  hard;  but  he  con 
sented,  and  told  them  it  would  not  be  long  before  he  should 
claim  her,  and  he  fixed  the  time  on  New  Year's  day.  The 
boat  had  entered  upon  a  business  which  one  of  the  first  class 
seldom  reached,  and  it  would  increase  rather  than  diminish. 
The  parting  of  the  lovers  was  very  tender,  and  the  hearts 
of  all  were  filled  with  generous  emotions. 


THE   STEAMBOAT    CAPTAIN.  69 

Charles  was  a  little  too  sanguine  in  his  calculations.  Dur- 
ing the  hot  months  business  was  dull ;  the  time  was  improved 
in  making  alterations  and  repairs,  and  it  was  not  until  March 
that  he  attained  his  object. 

But  unexpected  changes  had  marked  the  New  Year.  Mr. 
Lincoln  had  been  elected  President ;  the  South  threatened 
to  secede,  and  business  and  other  arrangements  were  likely 
to  be  interrupted.  Alfred  had  been  willing  to  sell ;  but 
Charles  wished  to  wait  till  they  could  see  what  Mr.  Gibson 
would  do,  and  he  feared  the  worst.  Business  had  been  enor- 
mous during  the  winter.  The  South  had  been  buying  provi- 
sions in  the  largest  quantities ;  agents  were  ordered  to  buy 
without  limit  as  to  quantity  or  price,  and  sugar  and  cotton 
were  shipped  direct  by  Cairo  to  make  the  payments.  Every 
boat  was  urged  to  take  freight  till  it  could  carry  no  more. 
Charles  had  improved  the  chance,  and  he  had  a  plenty  of 
money. 

The  boat,  going  down,  stopped  at  the  plantation,  and  Mr. 
Gibson  and  Lillie  came  aboai'd ;  but  as  there  was  no  place 
for  conversation,  they  waited  till  they  reached  New  Orleans. 
Charles  could  not  fail  to  notice  that  they  looked  on  him  with 
more  tenderness  and  regard  than  ever  before,  and  in  her 
state-room  she  gave  him  kisses  so  sweet  that  he  wondered 
why  he  had  not  dreamed  of  so  much  happiness  being  in  store. 
To  Alfred,  also,  they  paid  particular  attention,  and,  though 
he  was  not  easily  flattered,  he  showed  that  he  was  gratified. 

The  four  were  together  in  the  room  of  the  hotel.  Charles 
stated  that  for  his  share  he  had  money  enough  to  permit  him 
to  become  a  two-thirds  owner  of  the  boat.  Mr.  Gibson  said 
that  this  was  nicely  done ;  certainly,  few  river  men  had  ever 
before  been  so  successful.  But  he  wanted  to  talk  with  them 
a  little  about  political  affairs.  Both  said  that  they  did  not 
meddle  in  such  matters,  and  it  was  for  their  interest  to  say 
little.  All  very  proper  and  judicious  in  days  past  and  gone, 
but  now,  new  lines  are  drawn;  every  one  must  take  sides. 
The  question  he  wanted  to  ask  was  this :  in  case  of  a  separa- 
tion, which  side  would  they  take,  the  North  or  the  South  ? 


70  LIFE   IX   THE   WEST. 

They  started.  A  separation  !  They  had  heard  such  a  thing 
talked  of,  biit  did  not  conceive  any  one  in  earnest.  Earnest ! 
It  was  a  fixed  fact,  and  no  future  event  could  be  more  certain. 
If  this  were  so,  it  would  be  Southern,  not  Northern  men,  who 
would  strike  the  blow.  Most  true,  and  soon  they  would  be 
ready  to  strike  it,  nor  would  they  be  alone  ;  the  great  Demo- 
cratic party  of  the  North  would  go  with  them  hand  in  hand. 
Lillie  had  been  watching  Charles  intently ;  at  this,  she  saw 
him  flush,  and  she  expected  he  would  be  rash.  He  collected 
himself,  and  said  that  a  part  might,  but  nothing  was  more 
certain  than  that  the  great  body  of  the  Northern  people  were 
opposed  to  disunion.  Why,  they  had  not  even  discussed  the 
subject.  Well,  this  did  not  answer  the  question :  grant  a 
secession,  which  side  would  they  take  ?  Alfred  said  that 
question  need  not  be  asked.  Charles  said  he  was  about  to 
say  the  same  thing.  Mr.  Gibson  said,  that  in  that  case  he 
did  not  longer  wish  to  have  an  interest  in  the  boat.  Very 
well,  they  could  pay  him  what  was  due  him. 

But  they  should  not  be  hasty.  The  breaking  of  the  tics 
of  affection  is  hard.  In  some  cases  it  must  be  done.  In 
this  it  was  wholly  unnecessary.  Then  he  went  on  to  show 
how  much  better  they  would  do  to  run  the  boat  on  the 
lower  Mississippi.  Boats  would  be  in  great  demand.  Intelli- 
gent business  men  could  command  the  wealth  of  the  country, 
they  might  control  it.  The  water  he  would  have  to  run  on 
would  be  an  empire  in  itself.  To  this  effect  he  talked  long. 
The  sweat  stood  on  Charles's  face,  and  when  Mr.  Gibson 
spoke  of  controlling  the  Mississippi  he  clinched  his  fist.  In 
his  reply,  he  said  the  Lord  of  the  Heavens  and  the  Earth  had 
decreed  the  Mississippi  to  run  through  an  undivided  country, 
and  no  inferior  power  could  decree  otherwise.  When  he 
said  this  he  looked  at  Lillie,  she  was  ghastly  pale,  he  saw  he 
had  lost  her — he  gasped  for  air,  and  his  heart  almost  ceased 
to  beat.  After  some  silence,  Mr.  Gibson  said  that  at  their 
earliest  leisure  they  would  close  the  copartnership,  and  as 
he  had  nothing  more  to  say,  he  and  his  friend,  the  pilot, 
would  leave  the  young  gentleman  to  bid  his  daughter  adieu. 


THE   STEAMBOAT    CAPTAIN.  71 

When  their  footsteps  died  away  she  sprang  around  his 
neck.  She  implored  him  not  to  desert  her,  not  to  go 
away, — not  to  break  her  heai-t.  Why,  why,  why,  should 
they  part  ?  Between  almost  every  word  she  kissed  him  and 
her  eyes  flowed  with  tears.  Most  wretched  man  !  He  was 
choked,  he  was  blinded,  but  he  could  feel  her  lips,  her  arms, 
her  sobbing.  At  last  he  told  her  not  to  hate  him  for  what 
he  should  say ;  he  confessed  he  was  surprised,  it  was  a  sub- 
ject he  had  scarcely  thought  of,  but  she  need  not  dream  that 
he  would  lift  the  weight  of  his  little  finger  against  the 
government — rather,  he  would  use  all  the  ability  God  had 
given  him  to  help  sustain  it.  What,  would  he  do  nothing 
for  her  ?  Yes,  much ;  he  had  not  time  to  tell  how  much. 
He  would  do  any  thing  a  man  ought,  or  dare  do.  But  what 
was  she,  what  were  her  parents,  what  was  the  whole  country 
without  the  government?  She  was  asking  him  to  help  bring 
ruin  upon  her,  and  her  people. 

Oh,  no  !  She  should  not  leave  her  parents.  What  could 
prevent  him  from  running  the  boat  bearing  her  name  past 
the  house  that  was  her  house  and  his  home  ?  Oh  !  how  hap- 
pily they  could  live  together.  He  must  not  tear  himself 
away. 

He  was  sorry  to  tell  her  that  rather  than  agree  to  do  what 
she  required,  dearly  as  he  loved  the  boat,  dear  as  it  was  for 
the  name  it  bore,  and  dear  as  it  was  for  the  hopes  it  con- 
tained of  his  future  life,  he  would  set  it  on  fire  and  in  the 
midst  of  the  conflagration  plunge  where  he  would  fall  on 
the  hissing,  red-hot  boilers  and  be  scorched  and  twisted  like 
a  leaf. 

She  started  back  in  defiance,  and,  without  a  warning,  spat 
on  him.  In  a  proud  voice  she  ordered  him  to  leave  the 
room.  He  bowed  to  her  cold  beauty  and  obeyed.  When 
without,  he  did  not  weep,  he  smiled.  The  smile  arose  from 
the  depth  of  his  being,  where  dwells  a  superior  love — the 
love  of  country,  of  societv,  on  which  all  blessings  depend. 

As  they  started  for  the  North  they  concluded,  from  the 
temper  of  the  people,  that  this  would  be  their  last  trip. 


72  LIFE    IN   THE   WEST. 

They  had  an  overflowing  list  of  passengers,  and  yet  at  every 
landing  more  came  aboard.  They  were  told  there  was  no 
room,  and  that  even  the  cots  were  all  taken,  but  they  would 
come.  One  man  said  that  he  was  fleeing  from  the  wrath  to 
come.  At  Vicksburg  there  were  threats  from  the  crowd, 
and  they  backed  out  so  soon  that  some  passengers  could  not 
get  on  their  trunks.  At  Napoleon  the  boat  was  fired  on, 
and  a  hand  was  wounded.  The  shot  spattered  against  the 
cabin  and  the  fright  among  the  families  was  extreme. 

At  Memphis  there  were  more  passengers,  and  while  the 
clerk  was  on  shore  collecting  the  freight  bills,  a  party  of 
armed  men  rushed  aboard,  ordered  the  fires  dampened,  and 
the  chain  cables  to  be  got  out  fore  and  aft.  The  boat  should 
not  leave.  They  were  not  going  to  have  all  the  boats  taken 
out  of  the  river.  They  crowded  around  the  captain  so  that 
he  could  scarcely  stir,  and  when  he  gave  orders  they  threat- 
ened to  shoot  him.  He  asked  them  if  they  did  not  know 
that  this  was  piracy.  Piracy  might  be  —  ,  etc.  He  could 
do  nothing.  Alfred  saw  what  was  going  on,  he  found  the 
first-mate,  they  wrent  to  the  engineers  and  formed  their  plan. 
Then  he  went  up  into  the  pilot-house.  The  first-mate  had 
run  the  river  for  many  years,  he  was  from  Pittsburg,  and  if 
he  Avas  not  rough,  his  voice  was.  He  came  around  carrying 
a  six-shooter  in  his  hand.  Haul  in  this  staging  and  be 
lively,  every  man,  heave  away ;  you  don't  half  lift — back 
with  it.  At  the  same  time  the  engineer's  bell  rang  to  fire 
up.  The  pilot's  bell  rang  to  back  one  wheel.  The  boat 
moved,  the  staging  dragged.  The  pirates  ordered  the  boat 
to  stop.  The  harsh  voice  i-esounded  like  a  speaking  trumpet. 
Heave  ahead,  the  last  man  of  you,  heave !  All  who  are 
going  ashore  had  better  be  lively.  The  ruffians  saw  they 
were  likely  to  take  a  ride.  They  ran  down  the  staging  and 
jumped  off,  and  waded.  Both  wheels  started  ahead,  the 
staging  rose  dripping  from  the  water.  The  boat  was  saved. 
There  were  shakings  of  hands  and  exulting  shouts.  Then 
the  calliope  played  in  shrill  pipings,  "  The  Star  Spangled  Ban- 
ner," "  O  say,  Can  you  see  by  the  Dawn's  early  Light  ?  "  The 


THE   STEAMBOAT    CAPTAIN.  73 

clerk  took  the  cars  for  Columbus,  and  when  the  boat  reached 
Cairo  he  came  aboard.  Charles  afterwards  learned  that  the 
rebel  leaders  at  ISTew  Orleans  had  sent  despatches  to  seize 
the  Lillie  Gibson. 

War  followed.  The  lower  Mississippi  was  closed.  Du- 
ring the  summer  most  of  the  steamboats  were  laid  up.  In 
the  fall  there  was  a  move.  At  times,  government  took  every 
boat  to  transport  troops  and  supplies.  The  Lillie  Gibson 
was  chartered  and  continually  employed.  In  the  attempt  to 
penetrate  the  bayous  in  rear  of  Vicksburg  she  was  dam- 
aged. The  limbs  of  trees  and  cannon  balls  carried  away 
one  chimney,  and  ripped  open  the  wheel-houses.  There  were 
musket  balls  through  her  cabin  windows,  and  blood  stains  on 
her  decks.  She  had  given  a  good  fight  herself,  for  a  battery 
of  artillery  was  aboard.  Her  captain  and  pilot  went  through 
these  terrible  scenes  with  .undaunted  courage,  and  when 
they  could  do  no  more,  they  returned  to  the  upper  country 
for  repairs.  The  minister  and  his  family  saw  a  sad  sight 
when  the  Lillie  Gibson  was  towed  past  their  house,  no 
steam,  no  music. 

Still  the  boat  Avas  sound ;  at  N^ew  Albany  crowds  of 
workmen  thronged  around  her,  and  soon  she  was  as  good  as 
new.  One  bright  day  in  June  she  came  back  shining,  and 
playing  "  Dixie."  "  In  Dixie's  Land  I  take  my  Stand." 

She  was  at  the  surrender  of  Vicksburg,  and  beheld  the 
rebels'  last  grasp  on  the  Mississippi  relax  at  Port  Hudson. 
Then  the  river  was  opened.  Some  of  us  remember  how  a 
first-class  steamer,  anxious  to  be  the  first,  came  through  from 
New  Orleans  to  Cairo,  a  thousand  miles,  with  no  other  freight 
than  one  box  of  oranges. 

Charles  left  the  Lillie  Gibson,  and  went  down  the  river  in 
an  iron-clad,  which  was  to  patrol  the  river,  driving  out  guer- 
rillas or  looking  after  torpedoes.  When  opposite  Mr.  Gib- 
son's house  they  anchored,  and  Charles  was  put  ashore,  with 
a  guai-d  of  marines.  The  walks  had  grown  up  to  grass  and 
weeds,  but  there  were  signs  of  trampling?.  All  was  silent. 
and  no  one  could  be  seen.  It  was  a  dangerous  neighbor- 
4 


74  LIFE   IN   THE  WEST. 

hood ;  the  guerrillas  swarmed  the  country.  A  week  before 
they  had  fired  on  a  transport  from  a  field  near  the  house.  A 
gunboat  had  come  up  from  Baton  Rouge;  there  was  a  little 
fight,  during  which  a  shell  had  gone  through  the  upper  story. 
He  knocked ;  there  was  no  answer.  He  turned  the  knob ; 
the  door  opened,  and  he  went  through  the  wide  hall.  His 
footsteps  sounded  hollow.  The  carpet  had  been  taken  up 
for  rebel  blankets.  Evergreens  were  seen  through  the  back 
door.  On  stepping  forth,  he  saw  Lillie  come  out  of  the  base- 
ment ;  as  she  did  so,  she  wiped  her  lips  with  the  back  of  her 
hand.  When  she  saw  Charles,  she  sprang  up  the  steps,  and 
said  she  was  glad  he  had  come.  They  had  seen  such  times, 
such  fightings,  and  such  sights !  She  was  in  black. 

They  were  seated  in  the  hall.  The  marines  were  on  the 
verandah.  How  was  it  she  was  quite  alone ;  where  were  her 
folks — her  father,  mother,  and  brothers  ?  She  could  hardly 
answer.  After  the  fall  of  New  Orleans  her  father  took  it  so 
to  heart  that  he  gradually  sank  away,  and  last  August  he 
died.  He  had  no  disease.  Her  mother,  long  declining,  fol- 
lowed in  September.  One  of  her  brothers  fell  in  the  battle 
of  Champion  Hill ;  the  other  died  in  the  hospital  at  Mobile. 
Not  one  of  the  family  was  left.  Her  relatives  in  New  Orleans 
had  been  sent,  by  Lake  Ponchatrain,  across  the  Confederate 
lines. 

This,  indeed,  was  sad.  What  was  she  going  to  do  ?  She 
did  not  know.  What  troubled  her  most  was  the  constant 
going  to  and  fro  of  bad  men,  and  the  fighting.  By  the  way, 
where  were  the  negroes  ?  Gone,  all  gone,  except  a  few  too 
old  to  move.  These  had  been  sick;  she  had  watched  and 
nursed  them.  For  a  long  time  she  had  cooked,  washed,  and 
baked.  She  couldn't  have  things  nice. 

Then  she  wanted  to  ask  him  a  question.  Certainly  she 
should  ask.  Did  he  own  the  boat  still  ?  Yes,  it  was  at  Port 
Hudson.  Well,  had  he — had  he  changed  the  name  ?  No ; 
still  it  was  the  Lillie  Gibson.  She  raised  his  hand  to  her 
lips  and  kissed  it.  Would  he  pardon  her  ?  He  would  pardon 
her  anything  except  her  being  an  enemy  to  his  country. 


THE    STEAMBOAT    CAPTAIN.  75 

True — true ;  he  could  not  pardon  that.  But  they  had  been 
deceived,  wickedly  and  cruelly.  Father  often  said  so  before 
he  died.  Her  brothers  said  there  had  been  much  lying  going 
on,  and  that  they  did  not  have  men  enough.  They  had  been 
told  that  the  Xorth  would  help  them,  and  that  without  trou- 
ble they  could  hold  the-  Mississippi.  It  seemed  as  though 
they  could  not.hold  anything.  She  did  not  profess  to  under- 
stand these  matters.  She  had  acted  and  believed  as  she 
was  taught ;  he  did  the  same,  only  he  knew  so  much  more. 
They  were  ruined — everybody  was  ruined. 

The  bell  on  the  gunboat  rang.  .  The  marines  were  stirring. 
He  could  not  stay.  Could  he  do  anything  for  her  ?  No, 
nothing,  unless  he  could  make  peace.  He  took  her  hand. 
She  looked  into  his  eyes.  Was  that  all  ?  Was  what  all  ? 
Alas — alas !  it  would  never  return.  He  placed  her  head 
between  his  hands  and  kissed  her  forehead.  Once,  how 
tenderly,  how  truly  he  had  loved  her.  She  was  the  blood 
of  his  heart,  the  life  of  his  life.  The  bell  rang.  The  boom 
of  a  heavy  gun  came  up  the  river;  there  was  the  distant 
sound  of  musketry-firing.  Could  he  not  call  again  ?  Yes, 
he  would  call.  And  so  she  did  love  him,  after  all  ?  O,  yes  ! 
she  could  not  tell  him  how  much.  Their  lips  met,  and  the 
bell  rang  with  an  angry  swing. 

Black  smoke  was  streaming  out  of  the  chimneys  as  they 
got  aboard.  Xow  for  them.  It  seems  that  these  guerrillas 
have  artillery,  and  are  standing  up  to  the  work  well.  They 
are  after  yon  transport  hugging  the  east  side  of  the  island. 
A  tin-clad  is  peppering  them.  With  this  strong  current, 
and  our  full  head  of  steam,  we  shall  soon  be  upon  them. 
That  tin-clad  does  not  like  a  short  range,  and  is  dropping 
down.  Here  we  round  to,  and  give  them  a  pill  from  our 
11-inch  kicker.  That  was  too  high.  This  salt-water  lieu- 
tenant will  sight;  now  pull.  Did  anybody  ever  see  any- 
thing more  beautifully  done?  Why,  their  two-gun  battery 
is  nowhei-e.  They  had  better  give  up  talking  about  their 
Mississippi. 

Three  days  after,  Charles  called  again.     This  time  it  was 


76  LIFE   IN   THE   WEST. 

from  a  tin-clad.  She  was  going  to  lie  there.  The  guerrillas 
were  swarming.  The  officers  told  Charles  to  beware  of 
pretty  women ;  they  smile  to  deceive. 

When  he  went  in  he  looked  around.  Have  we  any  one 
here  ?  "Whom  could  he  be  talking  of?  Did  she  know  that 
her  race  was  treacherous,  that  many  a  poor  fellow  last  was 
seen  entering  deceitful  doors  ?  Yes,  she  did  know  it ;  but 
if  she  deceived  him,  he  should  shoot  her  first.  Hope  had 
lighted  her  eye,  and  given  color  to  her  cheek. 

Now,  then,  she  would  have  the  past  forgotten ;  only  a 
bridge  should  come  thence,  and  its  name  should  be  love. 
Well,  what  would  she  have  ?  she  must  speak  plainly.  She 
wished  nothing  more  than  to  be  his  true,  loving  wife.  With 
him  strife  should  banish,  battles  cease ;  oh,  that  it  could  be 
so  with  all  others  !  "  Whither  thou  gocst,  I  will  go,  where 
thou  lodgest  I  will  lodge ;  thy  people  shall  be  my  people, 
and  thy  God  my  God." 

It  was  enough.  That  same  day  a  chaplain  came  from  the 
gunboat — the  officers  came  also — and  they  were  married. 
The  poor  blacks  sat  by,  and  joyously  saw  their  mistress  arid 
the  captain  become  man  and  wife. 

Then  she  had  something  to  tell  him.  Not  all  the  cotton 
was  burned.  Some  had  been  fired  when  the  boats  first  came 
in  sight ;  it  was  to  deceive.  She  had  a  map  of  the  places 
where  it  was  hid,  and  it  could  be  found. 

This  was  a  surprise  to  Charles.  He  went  to  Vicksbm-g  to 
get  a  permit.  Of  course,  a  loyal  man  like  Captain  Moss  had 
a  right  to  do  with  his  own  as  he  chose.  On  the  banks  of 
bayous,  under  paw-paw  busheSj  in  corn  fields,  over  which 
plows  had  run,  under  piles  of  cotton-seed,  and  in  other  places, 
was  the  cotton  found.  Much  of  it  was  dirty  and  torn,  but 
it  had  a  large,  clear  heart.  The  Lillie  Gibson  was  so  well 
loaded  that  her  machinery  was  protected  from  cannon-balls, 
and  the  bales  were  piled  up  to  the  cabin-deck.  We  take  all 
aboard.  These  poor  people,  who  have  grown  weary  and  old 
hoeing  and  picking  cotton,  shall  find  a  Northern  home. 
Now,  Lillie,  bid  the  old  place  a  good-bye ;  we  may  not  see 


THE   STEAMBOAT  CAPTAIX.  77 

it  again  till  gentle  peace  returns.  Till  then,  the  govern- 
ment, with  its  heavy,  its  remorseless  hand,  will  have  its  way. 

All  aboard  with  Lillie  and  her  cotton.  They  and  others 
are  convoyed  by  one  of  the  Marine  Brigade,  huge  trans- 
ports, oak  and  ironclad,  hiding  within  horses,  saddled  and 
bridled,  with  a  battery  in  front.  If  guerrillas  show  them- 
selves wre  land,  a  door  opens  and  out  rush  our  cavalry,  they 
spur  up  the  bank  and  dash  after,  with  pistol  and  sabre. 

Lillie  began  to  forget  her  sorrows  in  the  new  life,  and  in 
the  enjoyment  of  what  was  left.  She  took  new  interest  in 
her  boat.  With  her  husband  she  would  walk  below  through 
the  black  mazy  machinery,  and  talk  with  the  soiled  engi- 
neers. She  even  felt  a  pride  in  putting  her  hand  on  the 
polished  brass  or  iron,  or  on  a  heavy  beam.  With  wonder 
she  would  walk  in  front  of  the  intensely  blazing  fires,  step- 
ping across  the  never-ending  stream  of  water  and  coals,  and 
where  the  crowd  of  firemen — naked  to  the  belt — shoveled 
the  black  coal  into  the  dazzling  furnace,  or  fed  the  fiercely 
roaring  blazes  with  wood.  When  Alfred  was  on  duty  her 
husband  would  help  her  up  into  the  lofty  pilot-house,  and 
here,  where  the  motions  are  tremulous,  so  remote  is  the 
engine,  she  would  sit  gazing  on  the  marvelous  scenery,  while 
the  pilot,  now  slowly,  and  now  swiftly,  turns  the  polished 
wheel. 

One  day  the  Lillie  Gibson  slowly  steamed  up  the  Ohio 
and  the  calliope  was  playing  "  Come  Haste  to  the  Wedding." 
The  boat  landed  and  the  captain  led  his  wife  ashore.  To 
the  passengers,  the  meeting,  the  shaking  hands,  and  the 
kissings  were  as  good  as  a  theater.  Then  the  boat  went  on, 
and  the  captain  with  it.  There  were  watchmen.  He  too 
would  watch,  for  one  day  the  first-mate,  smelling  brimstone, 
was  in  time  with  a  bucket  of  water,  and  the  incendiary 
guerrilla  was  found,  his  pockets  showing  what  he  was,  and 
in  a  scuffle  he  went  overboard.  The  night  was  dark — they 
supposed  he  could  swim,  if  he  could  he  was  fortunate,  and 
they  went  on. 

How  quiet  are  these  shores,  how  cool  these  shades,  how 


78  LIFE  IN  THE  WEST. 

fresh  the  water  from  the  spring !  "We  never  had  such  thick 
cream,  nor  such  sweet,  new  butter.  How  did  they  make 
such  light,  soft  bread  ? — it  was  better  than  any  cake.  She 
must  learn  if  she  could  to  make  like  it. 

The  next  summer  their  new  house  was  finished  and  they 
moved  into  it,  their  family  three  in  number.  One  of  them 
frequently  is  dissatisfied.  Only  one  thing  will  please  him. 
Often  it  pleases  two. 

In  every  man  there  is  some  blemish.  It  is  a  flaw  which 
cannot  be  mended.  At  Cairo,  a  government  contractor  told 
me  how  he  made  a  settlement  with  Captain  Moss.  He  had 
sold  him  several  thousand  bushels  of  oats,  and  had  received 
some  money.  The  captain  felt  in  all  his  pockets,  and  pulled 
out  a  great  variety  of  papers,  at  last,  the  right  ones  were 
found  in  his  coat-tail  pocket.  The  contractor  says  that  he 
keeps  all  his  private  accounts  in  this  way.  Every  thing 
relating  to  the  boat,  however,  is  on  the  books  in  good  shape. 
He  added  that  he  knew  of  one  occasion  where  Charles  had 
dealings  with  a  party  amounting  to  over  ten  thousand  dol- 
lars, and  all  the  papers  concerning  the  transaction  he  kept 
in  his  hat.  It  is  known  that  he  can  settle  with  a  man  any 
moment  with  papers  he  carries  with  him.  But  it  is  remark- 
able that  every  thing  is  complete  and  correct. 

The  causes  of  many  of  these  things  go  back  to  the  sum- 
mer days  when  Delia  came  from  her  lowland  home  across 
the  Green  Mountains,  and  looked  down  into  the  waters  of 
Lake  George. 


THE  MISSISSIPPI  RIVER, 

AS  civilization  advances,  woman  is  called  to  new  and 
varied  employments.  Then  only  do  the  arts  and  sciences 
make  places  for  her,  then  only  is  she  fitted  to  fill  them.  Of 
all  our  institutions  of  learning  which  have  given  thorough 
culture  and  broad  views,  and  thus  prepared  woman  for  ad- 
vanced stations,  none  have  exceeded  Oberlin.  In  connection, 
it  has  taught  reform  in  diet,  which  undoubtedly  has  con- 
tributed to  lengthen  the  life  of  human  beings. 

Deacon  Cowles  lived  in  Iowa,  and  he  sent  his  daughter 
Maria  to  this  school,  that  in  every  respect  she  might  fit  her- 
self for  a  teacher.  He  determined  that  in  case  she  should 
not  choose  to  marry,  she  should  have  an  education  by  which 
she  could  support  herself  handsomely.  In  no  station,  in  no 
country  should  she  be  helpless.  Should  she  marry,  much 
better  would  she  be  able  to  make  her  children,  herself  and 
her  husband  happy.  He  had  not  large  means.  The  country 
was  new,  he  and  his  family  labored,  saved,  and  did  without 
many  things  to  keep  Maria  at  school.  Still  he  prospered ; 
with  such  wide  views,  he  was  also  wise  in  worldly  affairs, 
and  he  became  independent. 

A  short  time  after  Maria  graduated,  and  while  she  was  at 
home,  her  father  died.  She  had  loved  him  dearly,  the  older 
she  grew  the  more  she  loved  him,  for  then  she  began  to 
realize  how  wisely  and  richly  he  had  endowed  her.  It  was 
a  great  shock,  and  she  was  reconciled  only  by  thinking  that 
she  would  meet  him  in  the  Heavenly  Jerusalem. 

Then  she  commenced  the  life  of  a  teacher.  There  are  few 

(79) 


80  LIFE   IN   THE  WEST. 

girls  who  do  not  form  attachments  to  the  other  sex.  Oscar 
More  was  a  student  with  her.  He  was  going  to  be  a  min- 
ister, and  they  were  engaged  to  be  married  when  he  should 
be  ordained.  He  was  a  noble  looking  young  man,  six  feet 
tall,  a  good  scholar,  a  fine  speaker,  and  ambitious.  No  one 
doubted  but  he  would  become  distinguished. 

While  she  was  teaching,  he  was  studying  theology.  He 
was  thought  much  of,  and  the  Professors  considered  him  the 
most  promising  of  all  their  young  men.  From  a  class-mate 
of  his  I  learned  his  secret  history  of  those  days.  It  will 
astonish  many.  One  evening  he  went  to  a  Professor  and 
candidly  told  him  that  he  had  doubts  of  the  truth  of  the 
Christian  religion,  and  of  the  immortality  of  the  soul,  and 
he  wished  to  talk  with  him.  He  stated  the  points,  and  they 
considered  them  till  nearly  daylight.  The  Professor  ad- 
mitted that  the  same  things  had  troubled  him,  and  he  could 
not  give  full  satisfaction.  The  interview  ended  with  the 
conclusion  that  as  some  things  were  known  to  be  true,  the 
others  must  conform  and  also  be  true.  Still  Oscar  was  not 
convinced.  He  was  troubled,  and  at  times  was  nearly  insane. 

Many  scientific  men  become  sceptical  because  they  lead 
isolated  lives,  and  have  no  living  facts  by  which  they  can 
prove  religion  true.  For  the  same  reason  have  fashionable 
people  and  those  living  by  others'  industiy  become  sceptical, 
or  wholly  indifferent.  Such  may  be  what  is  called  educated, 
but  it  will  be  noted  that  when  they  read  books  written  by 
gi'eat  men,  they  understand  only  a  part,  even  if  the  language 
and  subject  be  simple.  German  scholars  frequently  are 
sceptical,  for  their  ideas  are  confused  with  poverty,  with 
beer  and  tobacco  smoke.  Finally,  some  practical  men  are 
sceptical,  not  because  they  do  not  have  facts,  but  because 
they  do  not  take  pains  to  connect  the  facts  in  a  natural  and 
logical  order. 

Oscar  being  ambitious  and  yet  unable  to  solve  the  pro- 
blem of  Christianity,  grew  careless  and  cold,  and  he  had 
little  religion  in  his  heart.  As  a  consequence,  he  was  led 
away  by  his  ambition  to  commit  great  wrongs,  and  he  not 


THE  MISSISSIPPI  RIVER.  81 

only  become  one  of  the  most  wretched  of  mortal  men,  but 
he  inflicted  unspeakable  anguish  upon  more  than  one  faith- 
ful heart. 

One  time  when  he  was  in  New  Haven  he  became  ac- 
quainted with  a  young  lady  whose  parents  were  rich,  who 
was  highly  accomplished,  and  who  was  distinguished  for  her 
beauty.  A  mutual  attachment  followed.  Oscar  could  not 
help  seeing  the  misery  he  was  creating,  but  he  thought  that 
with  his  great  abilities  he  could  live  through  it  all.  He  felt 
it  to  be  so  important  to  have  a  wife  who  could  help  him  on 
his  way  that  he  was  willing  to  sacrifice  Maria,  deeply  as  his 
heart  continued  to  love  her. 

Of  course  Maria  gradually  ceased  to  receive  letters  from 
him,  and  she  was  alarmed.  At  last  she  wrote  a  letter  every 
day  for  six  days,  determined  to  force  a  reply.  He  wrote, 
saying  that  he  was  very  busy,  that  his  affections  were  un- 
changed, but  he  added  some  reflections  to  the  effect  that 
this  is  a  transient,  fleeting  world,  and  that  we  should  always 
be  prepared  to  meet  disappointments.  Then  she  wrote  to  a 
friend  of  hers,  and  who  was  intimate  with  his  class-mate,  to 
enlighten  her.  She  made  enquiries,  and  discovered  the  true 
state  of  the  case.  A  duty  was  to  be  performed,  and  the 
New  Haven  lady  was  told  every  thing.  Immediately  she 
returned  to  Oscar  all  his  gifts  and  letters,  and  sharply  ac- 
cused him.  So  far  had  preparations  gone,  and  so  great  was 
her  mortification,  that  she  fell  into  a  decline,  and  in  less  than 
a  year  she  died. 

At  this  very  time  Oscar  was  paying  attention  to  another 
young  lady  in  Troy.  She  belonged  to  one  of  the  first  fami- 
lies, she  was  quite  young,  and  she  fancied  she  loved  him,  at 
least  she  wrote  finely  about  her  feelings.  Oscar  thought  he 
would  go  back  to  Maria,  he  saw  retribution  gathering  in  the 
future;  still  there  was  a  great  struggle.  His  class-mate  has 
told  how  he  labored  with  him  almost  the  whole  of  one  night, 
in  a  recitation  room,  and  he  told  him  if  he  deserted  Maria, 
he  would  have  no  peace  in  this  world  or  in  the  next. 

Meantime,  Maria  had  been  offered  the  situation  of  a  gov- 
4* 


82  LIFE  IN  THE  WEST. 

erriess  in  a  planter's  family  near  Vicksburg.  Her  reputation 
as  a  teacher  was  the  very  best.  The  invitation  was  pressing, 
the  wages  great.  She  had  the  matter  long  in  suspense,  for 
she  wanted  to  know  what  Oscar  would  do.  At  last,  her 
friend  informed  her  that  he  was  writing  day  by  day  to  the 
lady  of  Troy,  and  that,  as  things  looked,  he  was  likely  to 
marry  her.  Maria  hesitated  no  longer.  She  accepted  the 
situation,  and  started  for  the  South.  It  was  in  the  fall  of 
the  year.  She  improved  the  opportunity  of  joining  a  com- 
pany of  travelers,  some  of  them  the  relatives  of  the  planter 
with  whom  she  was  to  live,  who  had  been  spending  the  warm 
months  at  St.  Anthony's  Falls.  The  water  being  low,  they 
took  the  cars  of  the  Illinois  Central  at  Dunlieth,  and  at  Cairo 
they  waited  several  hours  for  a  boat.  Maria  had  great  curi- 
osity to  visit  that  spot  where  the  waters  of  the  Mississippi 
and  the  Ohio  meet.  It  is  not  always  easy  to  approach  the 
place  where  the  land  ends.  A  gentleman  helped  her  over 
the  marshy  soil  and  drift-wood,  and  through  weeds,  to  the 
place  where  she  could  see  the  waters  mingle.  The  sight  was 
grand ;  and,  casting  her  thoughts  backward  to  the  many 
large  rivers,  some  of  them  thousands  of  miles  apart,  a  deep 
impression  was  made  on  her  mind. 

They  landed  at  the  planter's  door.  At  an  expense  she 
hardly  afforded,  she  had  prepared  garments  of  a  superior 
quality,  and  she  made  an  appearance  much  in  her  favor. 
By  nature,  she  had  good  features  and  a  fine  form,  and  inter- 
course with  the  best  society  had  given  her  an  engaging  and 
self-possessed  air.  By  exercise  and  temperate  habits,  she 
had  acquired  a  strong,  healthful  body.  Beside  this,  she  had 
the  art  of  matching  ribbons  and  the  patterns  of  dresses  to  a 
degree  a  woman  seldom  reaches,  and  no  one  thought  her 
anything  approaching  an  old  maid,  though  she  was  twenty- 
four.  She  understood  several  languages.  She  had  a  sweet, 
clear  voice,  could  sing  excellently,  and  she  could  play  on  the 
piano ;  nor  did  she  do  so  simply  by  striking  the  chords,  but 
with  a  practical  knowledge,  particularly  of  thorough  base. 
She  was  always  noted  for  the  whiteness  and  regularity  of 


THE  MISSISSIPPI  RIVEE.  83 

her  teeth.  In  addition,  she  was  skilled  in  housewifery.  She 
had  learned  much  from  her  mother,  and  during  three  years 
at  school,  she  and  three  other  girls  boarded  themselves. 
Perhaps  she  had  no  greater  qualification  than  that  of  making 
bread  so  good  that  every  one  praised  it. 

Such  adornments  can  but  make  a  superior  women.  In  a 
fair  degree,  Maria  represents  the  progress  which  has  been 
made  by  Christian  civilization.  When  we  consider  that  it 
is  not  difficult  to  select  almost  a  thousand  women  who,  com- 
bined, do  not  possess  her  qualifications,  what,  we  may  ask, 
will  society  become  when  every  woman  shall  be  her  equal  ? 
Clearly,  when  this  level  is  reached,  other  things,  also,  will 
correspond,  and  it  does  not  enter  into  the  heart  of  me  to 
conceive  how  exalted  the  state  of  society  will  become.  At 
the  present  time,  such  women  are  missionaries;  they  may 
consider  themselves  fortunate  if  they  do  not  become  martyrs. 
They  can  only  influence — it  is  impossible  for  them  to  control, 
and  their  chief  happiness  must  be  derived  from  themselves. 
Still,  there  are  pleasures  in  this  age  which,  during  parts  of 
one's  life,  are  fully  equal  to  all  that  the  future  can  bestow. 
Xature  never  dies.  We  breathe  the  air,  gi-ass  grows,  leaves 
come  and  go,  rain  falls,  and  the  sun  shines. 

The  place  where  she  lived  afforded  her  every  comfort. 
They  were  not  elegant,  but  they  were  sensible  people ;  they 
were  rich,  well-bred,  and  all  strived  to  make  her  residence 
agreeable.  A  governess,  on  becoming  one  of  a  family,  needs 
much  skill  not  to  derange  the  established  order  by  uncom- 
mon wants,  by  excess  of  politeness,  or  by  any  singularity  of 
speech  or  conduct  to  occasion  remark.  At  the  same  time, 
the  people  must  not  be  straightened  in  their  means,  and  they 
must  set  a  neat  and  an  abundant  table.  It  is  of  no  conse- 
quence, it  is  embarrassing,  if  they  set  a  fashionable  table. 
Perhaps  there  is  no  mechanism  so  beautifully  constructed, 
and  yet  so  easily  deranged,  as  a  family.  In  one  sense,  a 
rich  planter's  family  may  be  said  to  run  of  itself.  Usually, 
the  lady  takes  little  part  in  the  labor,  and,  at  least,  she  rea- 
lizes nothing  of  the  constant  toil ;  and,  as  most  people  think 


84  LIFE   IN   THE   WEST. 

they  always  must  be  vexed,  she  magnifies  trifles.  She  has 
time  on  her  hands — she  has  money ;  she  seeks  how  she  may 
enjoy  the  one  and  spend  the  other. 

The  neighbors  were  not  near,  for  the  plantations  were 
large,  and  Maria  had  many  pleasant  rides  in  making  calls 
with  the  planter's  lady.  It  was  not  long  before  several 
young  men  solicited  the  honor  of  her  company  to  various 
places.  They  were  respectful,  some  of  them  well-informed ; 
she  had  no  reason  for  refusing.  It  was  seldom  that  she  was 
not  requested  by  some  gentleman  to  accompany  him  to 
church,  either  at  Vicksburg  or  to  a  country  camp-ground. 
When  convenient,  she  preferred  to  go  with  the  family.  She 
thought  she  never  saw  people  better  behaved,  or  who  enjoyed 
more  of  the  blessings  of  this  world.  She  saw  little  of  the 
horrors  of  slavery,  for  it  cannot  be  constantly  presented. 
It  is  only  a  fruit,  and  there  must  be  seasons  and  influences 
favorable  for  the  fruit  to  grow.  The  servants  in  the  house 
were  well-dressed,  and  were  contented,  while  she  could  not 
see  that  they  who  labored  in  the  fields  were  forced  to  work 
hard,  or  were  poorly  clad.  Often  was  she  present  where  they 
ate ;  their  food  was  coai'se,  but  sufficiently  abundant,  and  if, 
by  extra  labor,  they  chose  to  have  a  greater  variety,  nothing 
prevented.  They  got  much  money  of  the  planter  even  for 
poultry,  eggs,  and  fish.  It  was  true  that  they  were  ignorant, 
but  she  did  not  fail  to  notice  that  the  poor  whites  were 
equally  ignorant,  and,  being  indolent,  they  were  not  as  useful 
to  society  as  the  slaves.  As  time  passed,  she  learned  more. 
Instances  of  cruelty  came  to  her  notice ;  sometimes  women 
were  whipped,  sometimes  families  were  separated.  She  was 
told  that  they  could  not  be  trusted,  and  that,  if  opportunity 
offered,  they  would  do  dreadful  things.  She  believed,  be- 
cause she  was  told  that  they  were  barbarians.  She  saw  that 
they  needed  to  be  enlightened  ;  she  could  see  no  possible 
prospect  that  the  planter  ever  would  consent  that  they  should 
be  enlightened.  She  thought  that  the  master  had  some  affec- 
tion for  the  black  man.  She  was  convinced  that  the  non- 
not  only  hated,  but  feared  him.  lie  was  his 


THE  MISSISSIPPI  RIVER.  85 

rival.  While  she  did  not  change  her  views  with  regard  to 
slavery,  she  was  forced  to  admit,  all  things  considered,  it 
was  an  evil  too  great  for  men  to  remedy. 

Among  those  who  called  on  Maria  was  a  gentleman  of  the 
name  of  Harper.  He  had  lost  his  wife,  and  the  planter  and 
his  lady  were  soon  convinced  that  he  was  thinking  of  their 
governess  to  fill  her  place.  Mr.  Harper  was  distinguished 
for  his  wealth,  for  his  fine  taste,  and  for  his  scholarship. 

To  show  her  what  a  home  she  would  have,  he  contrived, 
with  some  mutual  friends,  that  she  should  call  at  his  house. 
She  did  not  know  whither  she  was  going,  and  the  stop 
seemed  accidental.  She  was  surprised  at  the  magnificence. 
The  vast  and  solid  mansion  was  half  hidden  by  a  grove. 
Long  winding  walks,  bordered  with  flowers,  and  a  garden 
of  flowers  surrounded  the  dwelling.  The  softest  carpets 
were  under  her  feet,  huge  looking  glasses  showed  her  whole 
figure,  and  fine  paintings  hung  on  the  walls.  A  library  con- 
tained the  choicest  literature  of  our  own  and  foreign  lan- 
guages. A  costly  piano  lay  open,  and  she  could  not  resist 
their  united  entreaties  to  play.  From  the  parlor  and  from 
the  library  were  seen  long  stretches  both  to  the  north  and 
to  the  south  of  the  Mississippi.  The  table  was  spread  in  a 
manner  more  elegant  and  sumptuous  than  she  had  any  where 
seen.  Vases  of  rare  and  costly  flowers  shed  a  sweet  and 
strange  perfume.  There  were  fresh  fish  from  the  northern 
lakes,  oysters  from  Baltimore,  and  natural  and  canned  fruits 
from  all  parts  of  the  world.  Though  the  weather  was  warm, 
an  abundance  of  ice  made  all  things  cool.  The  servants  in 
attendance  were  dressed  like  gentlemen  and  ladies,  and  they 
took  as  much  pains  to  please  as  if  they  were  serving  their 
benefactors. 

When  some  of  the  company  proposed  to  visit  the  rooms, 
she  could  not  be  excused  if  she  did  not  go  with  them.  So 
many  large,  airy,  and  well  furnished  apartments  she  had 
never  seen  in  one  house  before.  There  were  two  rooms  into 
which  she  stepped  with  a  pained  heart.  They  were  the 
ones  occupied  by  the  wife  when  she  was  alive.  She  did  not 


8(5  LIFE   IN    THE   WEST. 

die  here.  There  stood  her  bed,  and  here  were  many  of  her 
things  as  she  had  put  them  away.  The  dressing-rpom  con- 
tained her  articles  of  toilet,  they  were  costly,  and  from  the 
hands  of  workmen  of  refined  taste. 

Then  they  went  to  visit  the  servants'  quarters.  It  was  a 
village.  Each  house  was  of  brick,  there  was  separate  apart- 
ments, well  lighted,  and  a  few,  belonging  to  old  favorites, 
were  carpeted.  The  barns,  and  the  gin-house  beyond,  were 
extensive,  and  showed  thrift  and  good  taste.  So  much  was 
there  to  admire  that  the  tongue  was  silent. 

It  was  not  long  before  Mr.  Harper  proposed.  Though  she 
had  foreseen  it,  she  was  surprised  and  a  blackness  seemed 
to  cover  the  sky.  She  told  him  she  would  give  him  an 
answer  at  a  future  day.  She  wrote  to  Oscar,  it  would  be 
for  the  last  time ;  she  simply  asked  his  intentions.  Oscar 
replied  that  he  loved  her  as  much  as  ever,  that  scarcely  an 
hour  passed  in  which  he  did  not  think  of  her,  still,  he  had 
doubts  whether  she  might  not  be  happier  with  some  one 
else.  She  had  written  to  her  friend,  the  answer  came  at  the 
same  time  and  she  opened  it.  He  was  still  writing  to  the 
lady  in  Troy,  and  he  had  been  to  visit  her. 

Oscar  was  about  to  finish  his  course.  Every  tongue 
praised  him,  and  already  polite  and  refined  audiences  lis- 
tened to  him  with  delight.  As  an  extempore  speaker,  and 
on  occasions  of  public  interest,  few  of  long  experience 
could  better  command  attention.  Calm  and  critical  minds 
could  perceive,  however,  that  he  was  neither  deep  nor 
always  correct,  and  that  his  mastery  lay  in  a  strong,  full 
voice,  in  being  perfectly  at  ease,  and  in  paying  close  atten- 
tion to  the  general  rules  of  oratory.  In  addition,  he  was 
tall  and  well  formed,  his  head  was  large  and  handsome,  and 
he  weighed  nearly  two  hundred  pounds.  Perhaps  he  ex- 
erted a  magnetic  influence.  Still  such  was  allowed  for  his 
youth  and  his  inexperience. 

One  of  the  Professors,  an  old  man,  who  had  closely 
watched  many  of  the  best  minds  of  our  country  from  their 
first  entrance  into  public  life,  and  had  marked  the  causes  of 


THE   MISSISSIPPI   RIYER.  87 

their  success  and  their  ill  success,  took  occasion  before  they 
parted,  cautiously  to  remark  to  Oscar  that  sometimes  he  had 
known  instances  where  early  promise  had  been  a  bar  rather 
than  a  help,  and  that  those  who  had  become  eminent  had 
studied  more  after  they  left  college  than  in  it.  The  reason 
was,  that  on  coming  in  conflict  with  others,  they  found  that 
minds  far  more  comprehensive  than  theirs  had  occupied  the 
ground  before  them,  and  they  had  a  long  struggle  to  become 
their  equal.  To  be  useful,  is  within  the  reach  of  all.  There 
is  an  eminence  belonging  to  the  young  man  which  as  much 
arises  from  what  he  is  expected  to  do,  as  from  what  he  does 
do.  Another  eminence  is  of  the  man  of  the  middle  and 
advanced  age  who  has  fullfilled  the  promises  of  his  youth. 
It  was  long  before  Oscar  fully  understood  these  words. 

With  much  hesitation  Maria  finally  concluded  she  would 
become  Mr.  Harper's  wife.  There  were  many  things  which 
looked  dark,  she  thought  almost  threatening,  but  she 
fancied  she  would  have  such  forebodings  were  she  going  to 
marry  any  one  else.  At  the  best,  much  was  uncertain.  Of 
the  awful  storm  which  for  years  had  been  threatening,  and 
which  was  about  to  break,  she  had  not  the  faintest  suspicion. 
I  cannot  believe  there  were  any  who  had.  She  saw  that  her 
youth  was  nearly  passed,  that  at  least,  two  years  would 
elapse  before  she  would  return  North ;  then,  others  would 
fill  her  place,  and  that  so  far  as  worldly  prospects  were  con- 
cerned, she  could  not  believe  she  ever  would  be  offered  such 
again.  She  hoped  she  might  be  able  to  do  something  for 
the  poor  blacks,  at  least,  much  better  would  she  be  able  to 
study  slavery,  and  to  tell  the  world  what  it  was. 

When  Mr.  Harper  called  on  the  day  she  had  appointed, 
she  was  ready  to  receive  him.  She  wore  a  white  dress,  a 
rose  was  in  her  hair,  and  she  had  been  artful  enough  to 
make  herself  appear  in  the  highest  degree  charming.  When 
he  entered  she  arose,  she  took  his  hand  and  smiled  gra- 
ciously. After  a  proper  interval  he  asked  her  if  she  had 
decided  whether  she  would  become  his  wife.  She  answered 
that  she  would  not  object  to  his  offer,  and  she  hoped  she 


88  LIFE  IN   THE  WEST. 

might  prove  grateful  for  so  much  condescension,  and  ca- 
pable of  filling  so  high  a  station.  He  told  her  he  was  a 
happy  man.  Happy,  indeed,  should  any  man  consider  him- 
self with  a  wife  like  Maria. 

To  pass  through  the  scenes  of  the  important  day,  by  pro- 
perly conforming  to  the  etiquette  required,  was  a  task ;  but 
by  the  help  of  friends,  by  her  quick  perceptions,  by  her 
firmness  and  retentive  memory  she  acquitted  herself  well. 
It  was  remarked  by  some  who  were  well  acquainted,  that 
the  guests  collectively  were  worth  from  twelve  to  fifteen 
millions  of  dollars.  Her  appearance  in  bridal  garments 
was  greeted  with  silent  or  whispered  admiration.  She 
was  in  the  prime  of  her  beauty.  Her  health  was  excellent, 
and  all  the  fruits  of  her  parents'  care  in  her  childhood,  of 
her  studies,  of  her  meditations,  of  her  temperance,  and  of 
her  religion,  were  indicated  in  her  eyes,  in  her  face  and  in 
her  form,  as  before  the  friends  she  gave  her  hand  to  the  man 
who  had  chosen  her.  When  the  clergyman  began  to  speak 
a  cloud  swiftly  passed  over  her  face ;  as  briefly  she  thought 
of  Oscar,  and  then  she  listened  attentively  to  the  service. 

A  woman  has  many  advantages  when  she  marries  a  man 
who  has  been  married  before.  He  has  reflected  much  of  the 
dear  one  gone,  and  he  thinks  he  sees  how  she  might  have 
been  saved.  In  that  warm  climate,  however  hot  the  days, 
the  nights  are  generally  cool.  The  air  passes  through  the 
green  blinds,  but  not  the  light  of  the  moon  or  stars,  while 
the  thin  netting  keeps  away  flying  insects.  Where  there 
are  trees  a  class  of  birds  sing  a  few  notes  at  midnight.  Be- 
tween two  and  three  o'clock,  great  numbers  begin  to  sing, 
and  the  chambers  resound  with  their  melody.  There  is  an 
honest  and  a  noble  pride  in  life.  To  awake  refreshed  and  to 
greet  the  one  we  love,  to  dress  and  to  look  forward  with 
hope  for  the  day,  and  for  days  to  come,  give  much  of  all 
that  makes  life  dear.  As  the  sun  arises  the  flowers  are  in 
their  greatest  glory,  and  it  is  a  pleasant  employment  to  pick 
and  skillfully  arrange  them  in  bouquets  for  the  table. 

There  are  few  who  do  not  labor  and  strive,  though  with 


THE  MISSISSIPPI   RITER.  8£ 

faint  hopes,  that  some  day  they  may  own  such  a  house  and 
such  wealth  as  belonged  to  Maria's  husband.  They  confess 
that  they  believe  that  their  happiness  would  be  complete : 
and  some  would  exchange  their  innocence — if  innocence  they 
have — for  such  possessions.  To  every  age  is  given  a  new 
lesson.  Some  may  be  easily  and  soon  learned,  others  are 
more  difficult.  The  one  for  our  age  is  to  show  that  a  house 
which  is  built  by  unrewarded  labor  and  whose  stones  are 
cemented  with  tears  cannot  stand. 

Maria  could  control  her  husband,  because  he  knew  enough 
to  know  that  she  could  teach  him.  He  adopted  some  cus- 
toms of  which  she  showed  him  the  importance,  and  often  he 
Mras  restrained  because  he  wished  to  please  her,  and  because 
she  convinced  him  it  was  best. 

In  a  short  time  they  made  an  excursion  to  the  Xorth ; 
they  visited  the  principal  cities  and  places  of  resort,  nor  did 
they  neglect  to  go  to  her  family  in  Iowa.  He  went  with 
her  to  her  father's  grave,  he  dropped  a  sympathetic  tear,  and 
led  her  sorrowing  away.  One  day,  as  they  were  riding 
through  the  streets  of  a  city  her  eye  met  Oscar  on  the  pave- 
ment. He  raised  his  hat  and  stood  still  She  ventured  to 
look  back,  and  she  saw  him  still  standing  looking  towards 
them. 

She  learned  from  her  friend  whom  she  visited,  that  he  had 
become  a  minister,  that  the  lady  of  Troy  had  dismissed  him, 
and  that  sometimes  he  was  so  troubled  in  his  mind  as  not  to 
be  able  to  preach.  He  was  still  popular,  and  he  was  about 
to  accept  a  call  from  a  wealthy  congregation  in  a  large  city. 

Mr.  Harper  and  his  wife  returned  to  Mississippi  sooner 
than  they  intended.  The  country  was  convulsed  with  po- 
litical discussions,  and  the  place  for  him  was  among  his 
people.  In  the  middle  of  October  the  boat  landed  them  at 
their  pleasant  mansion.  In  all  their  travels  they  had  seen 
no  place  so  much  to  their  mind.  Here  they  would  be  con- 
tented-to  live  and  to  enjoy  each  other's  society.  The  round 
globe  itself  contained  no  spot  they  would  prefer.  With 
music,  with  rides,  with  the  duties  of  the  day,  and  with  the 


90  LIFE  IN   THE  WEST. 

hope  of  a  month  which  they  could  name,  a  few  happy  weeks 
went  by. 

Early  in  November  Mr.  Lincoln  was  elected  President. 
Every  ballot  which  fell  on  that  day  from  the  hands  of  the 
people  has  been  answered  by  a  death-shot  or  a  dying  groan. 
And  because  they  fell  the  land  was  filled  with  mourning ; 
cities  and  houses  blazed,  and  thousands  who  knew  no  toil,  no 
care  went  to  live  in  exile  and  want  beyond  the  seas. 

Although  no  politician,  Maria  was  well  acquainted  with 
the  history  and  constitution  of  the  country.  Since  her  resi- 
dence in  the  South,  she  had  learned  with  amazement  how 
generally  the  people  advocated  the  doctrine  of  State  rights 
taught  by  Calhoun.  She  looked  upon  it  as  an  error  so  great 
as  to  be  a  folly.  She  saw  at  once  that  if  it  was  true  there 
could  be  no  government  except  by  general  consent.  There 
was  nothing  to  control  the  bad  who  might  wish  to  plunder 
in  the  midst  of  disorder,  nor  could  she  see  how  a  city  or  a 
town  could  be  held  as  a  part  of  a  State  except  by  force.  If 
it  were  right  to  compel  them  to  remain  in  a  State  by  force, 
it  was  right  to  compel  the  State  to  remain  in  the  Union  by 
force,  because  the  relations  which  each  bear  to  the  other 
were  identical.  She  did  not  see  that  this  was  a  doctrine 
calculated  for  the  ignorant,  and  that  it  was  not  a  question  of 
secession,  but  of  the  continuance  of  slavery. 

Mr.  Harper  was  waiting  for  breakfast.  Where  was  Mrs. 
Harper  ?  She  was  late  in  getting  down  this  morning.  Oh, 
she  had  been  down  some  time  and  had  gone  out  to  see  one 
of  the  sick  women.  Soon  she  came  in,  almost  running,  and 
they  had  breakfast.  He  had  great  news  for  his  wife  this 
morning.  Really,  she  would  be  glad  to  hear  it.  Mr.  Lin- 
coln had  been  elected,  and  South  Carolina  was  going  to 
secede.  In  a  short  time  all  the  cotton  States  would  follow ; 
then  the  planting  States.  That  was  news  indeed,  but  could 
it  be  true  ?  Yes,  he  knew  it.  The  whole  South  was  in  a 
blaze.  It  was  no  spasmodic  affair.  It  was  the  result  ot 
management  and  long  calculation.  He  knew  the  whole 
thing  through.  She  remarked  that  if  it  was  true  she  thought 


THE   MISSISSIPPI   RIVER.  91 

it  very  wicked.  Wicked !  What  did  she  mean  by  wicked  ? 
Why,  is  it  not  Avicked — is  it  not  a  crime,  to  array  the  North 
and  South  against  each  other,  and  to  cause  bloodshed  where 
all  before  was  peace  ?  She  might  call  it  what  she  pleased — 
it  would  be  done.  It  was  as  good  as  done  already.  As  to 
bloodshed,  she  need  fear  nothing  of  that  kind.  The  demo- 
cratic party  of  the  North  would  go  with  them,  and  things 
would  remain  as  before,  only  they  would  have  their  own 
country  and  their  institutions  to  themselves.  In  that  case 
they  would  have  the  Mississippi,  when  foreign  capital  would 
come  in,  and  New  Orleans  would  rival  and  ruin  New  York. 

She  asked  if  she  was  right  in  understanding  him  to  say 
they  would  have  the  Mississippi.  Yes,  the  Mississippi.  Why 
not  ?  Nothing,  only  she  thought  it  was  bought  with  the 
money  of  the  whole  of  the  people,  and  at  the  particular  re- 
quest of  the  people  of  the  Northwest.  That  might  be,  but 
they  were  going  to  have  it ;  still  the  North  should  use  it  the 
same  as  they  always  had — there  might  be  some  nominal 
charges  and  duties,  for  the  new  state,  having  no  commerce, 
it  must  collect  a  revenue  from  some  quarter.  Of  course  they 
would  have  the  permission  to  use  the  river,  they  wanted 
them  to  use  it.  She  said  she  was  of  the  opinion  they  would 
have  it  without  asking  permission.  What,  were  they  going 
to  fight  ?  That  was  a  good  one.  Really  now,  did  she  think 
Northern  men  would  fight,  that  is,  stand  any  kind  of  chance 
with  Southern  men  ?  She  replied  that  she  knew  they  were 
a  peaceful  people,  and  not  at  all  disposed  to  go  to  war.  But 
it  must  be  remembered  they  were  a  commercial  people.  It 
would  hardly  answer  for  the  South  to  forget  this,  or  to  fail 
to  study  what  a  commercial  people  demand  and  will  have. 
As  one  had  said,  a  man  who  can  walk  towards  the  east,  can 
walk  towards  the  west.  Perhaps  he  mistook.  Not  at  all, 
not  at  all.  But  she  need  not  talk  about  war.  There  could 
be  no  war.  Still  the  South  was  prepared.  She  had  not  been 
idle.  Mr.  Harper  wished  to  believe  there  would  be  no  war. 

Such  was  their  first  conversation.  Then  State  after  State 
went  out  of  the  Union.  The  South  was  bitter,  enthusiastic 


92  LIFE  IN  THE  WEST. 

and  nervous.  In  comparison,  the  North  was  calm.  The 
main,  and  the  first  object  of  the  Southern  leaders  was  to 
make  the  people  all  of  one  mind.  They  fixed  upon  this 
policy  early;  all  who  would  not  unite  with  them  should 
leave  the  country.  If  they  would  neither  unite  with  them 
nor  leave,  they  would  fare  worse.  They  were  solemnly  in 
earnest.  Having  the  slaves  to  labor  for  them,  they  had 
nothing  else  to  do  but  to  be  in  earnest. 

One  day  in  February,  Maria  did  not  feel  very  well.  Her 
husband  thought  she  looked  as  if  she  had  been  crying,  and 
he  asked  her  tenderly  what  was  the  matter.  She  said  he 
must  pardon  her,  she  was  so  foolish.  Beside  other  things, 
she  had  been  thinking  of  home  and  her  father's  grave.  He 
knew  how  to  respect  her  feelings.  She  should  make  some 
music.  He  led  her  to  the  piano,  and  raised  the  curtains. 
The  sun  was  in  the  west.  Before  them  the  Mississippi  lay 
in  a  long,  broad,  sparkling  sheet.  Several  miles  distant,  a 
steamer  was  coming  around  the  bend. 

She  played  and  sang  "  Sweet  Home."  Tears  came  into  her 
eyes.  He  asked  her  for  some  other  pieces.  Then  she  sat 
silent  and  looked  on  the  river.  The  boat  was  approaching, 
with  its  two  black  plumes  of  smoke  thi'own  aloft.  She 
thought  that  the  people  aboard  had  come  from  the  far  North. 
She  put  her  hands  to  the  keys,  and  played  the  "  Star  Spangled 
Banner."  When  she  had  finished,  he  said  he  had  a  request 
to  make :  would  she  be  so  kind  as  not  to  play  that  tune 
again,  or  any  other  national  air  ?  Certainly,  if  he  wished  it, 
but  the  notes  of  that  tune  were  the  symbols  of  the  flag  of 
our  country.  Yes,  he  knew  it,  and  for  this  reason  he  did 
not  wish  to  hear  it.  They  would  have  none  of  these  things. 
What,  were  they  going  to  have  a  flag  of  their  own  ?  To  be 
sure  they  were ;  they  had  devised  the  emblems  already,  and 
had  mostly  decided  on  their  arrangement.  They  would  cut 
loose  from  all  associations  with  the  Northern  people ;  they 
had  become  hateful  to  them. 

Maria  reflected.  At  last,  she  asked  him  what  she  was  to 
do,  and  what  would  become  of  her?  Why,  she  was  to  be 


THE   MISSISSIPPI  RIVEK.  93 

his  true,  loving,  beautiful  wife.  None  of  these  things  need 
trouble  her,  and  though,  possibly,  there  might  be  great  cala- 
mities, she  would  be  safe ;  he  would  see  that  she  was  more 
secure  than  the  bird  in  its  nest.  He  approached  and  put  his 
arm  around  her,  and,  with  the  lightest  touch  of  his  lips,  kissed 
her  forehead.  She  smiled ;  she  spread  her  arms  and  clasped 
them  around  him,  and  rested  her  head  on  his  shoulder.  He 
smoothed  her  hair  with  his  hands,  then  kissed  her  lips. 

After  a  little,  she  asked  him  if  he  expected  she  would  look 
at  this  question  as  he  did,  and,  if  such  a  thing  should  happen, 
to  rejoice,  and  not  to  weep  over  a  divided  country  ?  No,  not 
exactly.  He  must  make  allowance  for  the  partiality  she  had 
for  her  native  land.  After  a  time,  he  would  naturally  expect 
her  to  see  things  in  a  different  light.  Even  if  they  could  not 
perfectly  agree,  it  need  not  disturb  their  happiness.  The 
foundation  of  a  solid  happiness  between  married  people  is 
never  laid  till  they  see  there  must  be  some  things  regarding 
which  they  will  differ ;  then  they  will  overlook  them. 

She  was  convinced  that  this  was  true,  and  she  was  glad  to 
hear  him  say  it.  True,  they  would  differ,  for  she  could  not 
see  that  she  ever  would  become  reconciled  to  a  national  dis- 
union ;  still,  she  knew  that,  situated  as  she  was,  she  could 
do  nothing  to  avert  it.  With  him  she  would  live — with  him 
she  would  die. 

Mr.  Harper  was  highly  pleased  with  her  good  sense,  and 
he  called  her  by  many  endearing  names.  How  extremely 
fortunate  they  were  that  they  were  enabled,  by  their  educa- 
tion and  knowledge  of  the  world,  to  talk  on  this  exciting 
subject  so  as  not  to  offend  each  other ;  and  he  gave  this  as 
an  instance  of  true  politeness.  Many,  under  such  circum- 
stances, would  become  extremely  unhappy. 

The  war  gradually  spread,  but  still  gave  little  evidence 
of  the  proportions  to  which  it  was  destined  to  expand.  To 
some,  however,  it  appeared  evident  that  it  would  go  on  till 
every  slave  should  be  free.  Mr.  Harper  still  continued  to 
receive  Northern  papers.  The  Southern  leaders  always 
have  well  supplied  themselves  with  radical  journals,  and  the 


94  LIFE   IN   THE   WEST. 

"Liberator,"  the  "Anti-Slavery  Standard,"  and  the  "Tri- 
bune "  have  been  read  attentively. 

Maria  saw  that  slavery  certainly  was  an  element  of  weak- 
ness, but  she  was  convinced  that  to  conquer  a  united  nation 
of  seven  millions  was  exceedingly  difficult,  and  the  instances 
mentioned  in  history  of  this  having  been  done  were  few. 
The  question  really  was :  were  they  a  united  people,  and 
would  or  would  not  the  leaders  be  obliged  to  force  the  peo- 
ple to  fight  ?  If  this  last  were  true,  the  rebellion  would  end 
whenever  their  principal  armies  should  be  destroyed ;  hence, 
their  success  would  not  depend  upon  the  cheerful  support  of 
the  people,  but  upon  their  armies.  After  all,  her  situation 
stopped  her  from  looking  narrowly  into  the  subject,  par- 
ticularly as  regards  slavery ;  this  she  hardly  dare  speak  of, 
although  everybody  else  was  speaking  of  it. 

An  extract  from  the  message  of  Governor  Yates,  of  Illinois, 
drew  her  thoughts  into  another  channel.  The  Governor  de- 
clared that  before  the  Northwest  would  surrender  the  Mis- 
sissippi, its  banks  would  be  lined  with  the  bones  of  her 
soldiers.  Then  the  question  really  was,  did  the  Northwest 
take  this  stand  ?  If  they  did,  the  South  must  submit,  or 
there  would  be  such  a  war  as  the  world  never  had  known. 
She  reflected  on  the  subject — she  studied  it ;  and,  with  her 
well-trained,  logical  mind,  she  took  into  view  the  geography 
of  the  country,  the  productions  of  the  people,  and  the  nature 
and  necessities  of  commerce.  Then  she  examined  maps,  and 
refreshed  her  memory  by  reperusing  parts  of  the  histories 
of  the  countries  of  the  Old  World.  At  last,  she  saw  that  the 
whole  question  of  the  war  was  divided  into  two  distinct 
parts — one  regarding  slavery,  the  other  regarding  the  Mis- 
sissippi River. 

One  day,  after  the  battles  of  Bull  Run  and  Big  Bethel 
had  been  fought,  and  about  the  time  McClellan,  with  150,000 
men,  was  besieged  in  Washington  by  50,000,  and  while  they 
were  eating  supper,  he  asked  her  what  she  thought  of  that. 
She  answered,  that  it  was  evident  the  North  had  very  faint 
notions  about  the  war,  and  that,  unless  they  did  better,  the 


THE   MISSISSIPPI    RIVER.  95 

South  was  likely  to  gain  her  independence.  But  she  had 
been  thinking  that  there  was  a  question  which  neither  the 
South  nor  the  North  seemed  to  understand.  Ah !  what  was 
it  ?  It  was  the  Mississippi  river.  Then  she  mistook,  at  least 
as  regards  the  South,  for  they  had  seized  and  fortified  Co- 
lumbus, and  were  going  to  hold  the  river,  let  what  would 
come.  She  asked  him  if  they  had  considered  the  subject,  in 
its  length  and  breadth,  with  all  the  attention  due  it.  Cer- 
tainly they  had.  By  holding  the  Mississippi,  the  Northwest 
would  be  induced  to  unite  with  them,  and  the  North  would 
be  broken  into  fragments.  She  asked  him  if  this  meant  that 
a  commercial  people  would  become  subservient,  and  pay 
tribute  to  an  agricultural  people.  Well,  it  would  amount 
to  this.  She  smiled  on  him  in  her  shrewd,  Yankee  way,  and 
asked  him  if  he  had  ever  read  of  an  instance  in  history  where 
this  had  been  the  case.  Ah,  not  perhaps  an  exact  case  of 
this  kind  ;  still,  he  thought  it  could  be  found.  Yes,  Carthage 
not  only  submitted  to  Rome — it  was  destroyed  by  her.  The 
fact  certainly  was  true,  but  at  that  time  Ronjie  was  so  much 
of  a  commercial  country  that  she  had  sent  colonies  abroad. 
The  Carthagenian  contest  was  as  much  a  war  between  two 
commercial  countries  as  the  war  between  England  and 
Bonaparte.  Very  well,  since  she  was  such  a  politician  and 
political  economist,  he  would  be  glad  to  hear  her  views  more 
at  large.  She  said  she  would  have  no  objection,  but  she 
feared  he  might  take  offence.  O,  no !  he  was  determined 
not  to  be  offended  at  anything  she  would  think  proper  to  say. 

As  she  arose,  he  noticed  that  she  dropped  her  handkerchief, 
and  he  handed  it  to  her  with  as  much  pleasure  as  if  he  had 
been  courting  her.  As  he  was  leading  her  into  the  parlor, 
she  said  perhaps  they  had  better  sit  on  the  piazza,  as  it  was 
cooler  there,  and  beside,  the  river,  which  was  her  subject, 
could  be  better  seen  thence. 

Would  he  have  the  kindness  to  bring  out  the  map  of  the 
United  States  ?  He  ran  and  got  it,  and  laid  it  on  the  floor 
at  her  feet.  Then  he  procured  some  paper  weights  and 
placed  them  on  the  corners,  for  a  breeze  was  springing  up. 


96  LIFE   IN   THE   WEST. 

He  sat  by  her  side.  Should  he  not  get  a  rod  for  her  to  point 
with.  No,  she  could  point  with  her  foot.  But  her  wide 
skirts  were  in  the  way.  Well,  there  then.  Yes,  that  was 
nice.  She  wore  satin  slippers  which  were  very  clean,  and 
her  stockings  were  of  silk. 

Now,  he  must  be  quite  sure  he  would  not  be  offended,  for 
she  was  going  to  try  to  show  him  that  a  navigable  river  no- 
where in  the  world  is  divided  by  two  countries — that  the 
attempt  to  make  such  a  division  would  result  in  war,  and 
that  countries  so  divided  always  would  be  at  war.  Really 
this  wTas  a  strange  proposition,  but  he  was  curious  to  see 
what  she  would  make  of  it.  It  was  for  the  interest  of  the 
South  to  look  at  the  subject  of  the  war  from  every  point  of 
view.  Of  course,  he  would  take  it  in  good  part.  He  must 
kiss  her  then.  He  kissed  her  once,  twice;  many  times. 
Once  she  kissed  him.  Unhappy  couple !  little  did  you 
think  that  you  would  never  kiss  each  other  again ! 

She  told  him  again  that  he  must  remember.  First  she 
spoke  of  the  Ijneiper  and  the  Don,  these  were  large  rivers. 
They  belonged  to  Russia,  and  they  were  peaceful  streams. 
The  Danube  is  divided  by  Austria  and  Turkey,  and  so  long 
as  these  nations  have  existed  they  have  been  at  war.  The 
Elbe  belongs  to  several  German  States,  whose  united  inter- 
ests are  similar  to  ours ;  still  it  has  been  the  source  of  great 
difficulties.  But  it  does  not  belong  to  two  countries,  which 
is  the  proposition.  The  Rhine  also  belongs  to  the  German 
States.  Sometimes  a  river  may  be  a  common  boundary, 
but  it  is  always  a  fruitful  cause  of  hostilities.  France  claims 
that  the  Rhine  is  her  natural  boundary ;  she  has  fought 
many  bloody  battles  to  make  it  such,  and  never  has  suc- 
ceeded. Waterloo  was  fought  in  the  valley  of  the  Rhine. 
The  Seine,  the  Loire,  the  Garonne  and  the  Rhone  had  always 
belonged  to  France,  and  the  Thames  to  England.  It  is  but 
recently  they  had  read  of  the  battles  which  wrested  from 
Austria  her  hold  on  the  lower  waters  of  the  Po.  The 
Orinoco,  undivided,  belongs  to  Venezuela,  the  Amazon  to 
Brazil,  the  Rio  de  la  Plata  to  Buenos  Ayres.  Egypt  has 


THE   MISSISSIPPI  RIVEE.  97 

always  had  so  much  of  the  Nile  as  she  wished.  The 
Euphrates  and  the  Tigris  belong  to  Turkey,  the  Indus  and 
the  Ganges  to  Hindostan,  and  the  whole  of  the  great  rivers 
of  China  to  her  Empire.  From  this  it  must  be  seen  that 
nations  never  come  together,  or  crystalize,  in  any  other 
way  than  by  including  within  their  boundaries  the  whole 
of  navigable  rivers.  If  they  do,  they  are  constantly  at  war- 
Many  of  these  streams,  in  comparison,  are  insignificant,  and 
the  countries  which  include  them  were  established  when 
navigation  was  very  limited.  If  this  condition  was  so  in- 
dispensable in  the  early  ages  of  nations,  Avhat  shall  we  say 
of  this  commercial  age,  and  of  a  river  confessedly  more  im- 
portant than  any  other  on  the  globe  ? 

Mrs.  Harper  continued  by  saying,  that  at  Cairo,  she  had 
the  opportunity  to  visit  the  point  where  the  waters  of  the 
Ohio  and  the  Mississippi  meet ;  and  if  her  husband  would 
give  her  his  attention  she  would  show  him  what  waters 
flowed  past  her  feet. 

There  came  the  floods  of  the  White  Earth<  River  out  of 
British  America  and  beyond  Lord  Selkirk's  settlement ;  then 
the  Marias  River,  interlocking  with  the  waters  of  the  Oregon, 
and  within  a  few  days'  journey  of  Vancouver's  Island  and 
the  Pacific  Ocean ;  then  the  waters  of  Jefferson's,  Madison's 
and  Galitan's  Fork,  and  of  the  Yellow  Stone,  made  from  the 
melted  ice  that  flows  from  Fremont's  Peak ;  then  Clark's 
Fork  and  Big  Horn,  the  Little  Missouri,  the  Canon  Ball,  the 
Chayene  and  the  Running  Water ;  then  the  Sweet  Water 
from  the  Rocky  Mountains  overlooking  Utah,  and  the  South 
Fork  of  the  Platte  from  the  gold  mines  of  Pike's  Peak  and 
interlocking  with  the  Rio  Grande  of  Mexico;  then  the 
long  sandy  Platte  and  the  Kansas,  from  the  Spanish  Peak 
through  the  great  American  Desert ;  then  the  Republican 
Fork,  and  Soloman's  Fork  and  Smoky  Hill  Fork,  the  Osage 
and  the  Merrimac,  past  a  hundred  castle-rocks ;  then,  too, 
are  the  waters  of  Itasca  Lake,  icy  cool  even  in  summer; 
then  the  Minnesota,  the  St.  Croix,  and  of  Lake  Pepin  ;  then 
the  Chippewa,  the  Wisconsin,  the  Red  Cedar,  the  Iowa,  the 
5 


98  LIFE   IN   THE   WEST. 

Des  Moines,  the  Rock  River,  the  Fox,  the  Illinois,  the  San- 
gamon,  the  Kankake  and  the  Kaskaskia.  Such  is  the  mul- 
titude of  rivers  that  flow  past  one's  right  hand. 

On  the  other,  comes  the  Little  and  the  Big  Wabash ;  then 
the  White  River,  the  St.  Joseph's  and  the  St.  Mary's,  and 
the  Little  and  the  Big  Miamis;  then  the  Scioto  and  the 
Muskingum,  rising  where  Lake  Erie  sends  down  frequent 
showers ;  then  the  Mahoning  and  the  Beaver,  and  then  the 
Alleghany,  rising  almost  within  hearing  of  the  great  Falls 
of  Niagara ;  and  then  the  Monongahela,  dashing,  in  its  first 
course,  among  the  clouds  of  Old  Virginia.  Then  is  the  Silver 
Cumberland,  which  flows  past  the  Hermitage  and  the  rocks 
of  Nashville ;  and  then  the  Clinch  and  the  Holstien,  rising 
in  the  Cumberland  Mountains  and  making  the  Tennessee, 
which  flows  through  the  gates  around  Chattanooga,  and, 
bending  down  into  Alabama,  rolls  north  to  meet  the  Ohio. 

Here  is  a  region  larger  than  Europe,  and  so  created  that 
its  waters  shall  meet  at  one  place  and  then  flow  to  the  sea. 
Plow  many  hundreds  of  thousands  of  miles  do  they  come 
through  meadows  and  corn-fields,  by  cities  and  towns,  past 
how  many  quiet  and  beautiful  homes  !  Here  the  waters  of 
North  Carolina  meet  with  those  of  Dacotah,  those  of  Ten- 
nessee with  Idaho,  those  of  Alabama  with  New  York,  those 
of  Virginia  with  Iowa,  those  of  Minnesota  with  Kentucky, 
those  of  Missouri  with  Wisconsin,  those  of  Illinois  with 
Mississippi,  those  of  Nebraska  with  Maryland,  those  of 
Georgia  with  Michigan,  those  of  Colorado  with  Virginia. 
And  now  that  these  waters  have  run  their  course,  and,  as 
nature  has  bid,  united  in  one,  shall  man,  at  the  point  where 
this  union  is  complete,  undertake  to  divide  ? 

Many  of  these  rivers  are  larger  than  the  Rhine,  the  Po 
or  the  Danube.  The  Illinois  is  not  great  among  them,  but 
it  has  more  commerce  than  the  Rhine.  The  commerce  of 
the  Ohio  River  exceeds  that  of  all  the  rivers  of  Europe ; 
the  commerce  of  the  Missouri  exceeds  it;  the  commerce  of 
the  Upper  Mississippi  exceeds  it.  There  arc  more  com- 
mercial transactions  connected  with  the  Ohio  in  almost  any 


THE   MISSISSIPPI  RIVER.  99 

one  day  than  there  are  on  the  Nile  in  a  whole  year.  The 
commerce  of  this  region  of  rivers  exceeds  that  of  the 
Mediterranean.  What  would  be  said  should  this  sea  be 
cut  in  two  ? 

As  yet,  large  portions  of  this  region  are  uncultivated. 
Then  she  swept  with  her  foot  from  the  Alleghanies  to  the 
Rocky  Mountains,  and  said,  he  could  not  fail  to  see  that  the 
time  was  not  distant  when  the  population  in  this  valley 
would  exceed  the  whole  of  Europe  and  become  nine  times 
greater  than  England,  and  five  times  greater  than  that  of 
England  and  France  combined.  With  such  a  population, 
what  must  the  commerce  become  ?  It  would  exceed  the 
present,  at  least  three  hundred  times ;  or,  the  amount  that 
now  is  done  in  a  year  will  then  be  done  in  a  day.  Had  his 
people  seen  this  ?  if  they  had,  did  they  expect  to  offer  ob- 
structions and  impose  conditions?  If  with  the  limited  com- 
merce on  European  rivers  there  was  hardly  an  instance  of  a 
river  being  divided,  and  in  no  case  but  on  the  condition  of 
war,  how  did  the  South  propose  to  cut  the  Mississippi  in 
tAvo  unless  on  the  condition  of  war  ? 

She  raised  her  eyes  from  the  map,  and  she  looked  on  the 
flashing  waters  of  the  river  as  they  swept  in  glittering  array 
on  their  journey,  yet  five  hundred  miles  to  the  Gulf.  She 
did  not  notice  his  darkened  look,  but  warmed  with  the 
subject,  she  continued.  It  seemed  that  an  agricultural  people 
were  proposing  to  give  conditions  to  a  commercial  people ; 
but,  as  she  had  said  before,  such  a  thing  never  had  been 
done.  Commerce  always  controls  agriculture.  England 
had  fought  Bonaparte  twenty  years  at  the  bidding  of  the 
commercial  interest.  It  really  seemed  to  her  that  this 
question  was  kept  in  the  back-ground,  and  it  was  likely 
to  become  the  real  question  in  the  war.  That  regarding 
slavery  was  thought  dim  cult ;  but  in  a  few  years,  and  in  one 
way  or  another,  it  would  be  settled.  In  comparison,  slavery 
was  no  question  at  all ;  but  the  question  regarding  the  Mis- 
sissippi could  be  settled  in  only  one  way,  or  there  would 
be  war — war  for  a  thousand  vears. 


100  LIFE   IN   THE   WEST. 

She  thought  she  had  said  too  much,  she  turned  towards 
him,  his  face  was  dark  and  strange ;  she  remembered  that 
she  heard  him  say  he  believed  she  was  a  traitoress,  she  saw 
him  prepared  to  strike  a  blow,  then  her  senses  left  her,  for 
he  had  felled  her  to  the  floor. 

When  she  revived  her  women  were  around  her.  Her  hus- 
band stood  by  the  balustrade  tearing  the  map  to  pieces. 
They  whispered.  Others  came ;  they  lifted  her  gently  and 
they  were  bearing  her  through  the  hall  when  her  eyes  glanced 
upon  her  husband's  face.  It  was  distorted  with  a  fearful, 
threatening  scowl.  Her  lips  faintly  uttered  "Poppcea." 

It  was  not  long  before  he  came  through  the  door  leading 
from  his  room,  and  fiercely  walking  to  her  bed  asked  her,  in 
a  voice  of  thunder,  who  was  she  ?  She  said  she  would  be 
very  much  obliged  to  him  if  he  would  not  distress  her  further, 
for  he  did  not  know  what  had  happened.  Again,  in  the 
same  awful  voice,  he  asked  who  was  she  ?  She  said  she  hoped 
she  would  be  mentioned  among  those  "  which  are  come  out 
of  great  tribulation,  and  have  washed  their  robes  and  made 
them  white  in  the  blood  of  the  Lamb.  For  the  Lamb  which 
is  in  the  midst  of  the  throne  shall  lead  them  unto  living  foun- 
tains of  waters,  and  God  shall  wipe  away  all  tears  from  their 
eyes." 

Maria's  favorite  woman,  Ellen,  stood  in  the  hall  door  and 
told  him  she  wanted  to  speak  with  him.  Then  she  told  him 
what  was  the  matter.  His  face  became  haggard,  his  lips 
moved,  but  spoke  no  sound.  She  wanted  him  to  answer  her. 
Yes,  yes,  they  should  go.  She  ran  down  to  the  stable,  their 
swiftest  racer  was  saddled,  brought  out,  a  man  mounted  and 
started  for  Vicksburg.  They  told  Maria  the  horse  ran  as 
fast  as  he  did  at  the  races. 

At  midnight  there  was  a  cry  through  the  house.  Mr.  Har- 
per was  walking  in  the  piazza.  He  did  not  ask  what  it  was. 
He  walked  till  two  o'clock.  The  doctor  came  down  and  said 
she  might  get  well,  but  as  for  the  rest  it  was  all  over.  She 
was  asleep.  He  had  never  seen  a  woman  with  a  stronger 
constitution.  The  doctor  was  going  to  speak  further,  when, 


THE  MISSISSIPPI  RIYER.  101 

near  by,  there  was  the  sudden  report  of  a  heavy  cannon. 
What  was  that?  They  had  no  batteries  down  the  river. 
Soon  they  saw  a  small  steamboat  swiftly  coming  up  the 
river.  The  channel  here  runs  close  to  the  shore.  Both  hur- 
ried down.  As  the  boat  passed  they  asked  what  cannon  that 
was.  The  captain  replied  that  Farragut's  fleet  was  just  be- 
low the  bend,  slowly  working  its  way  up. 

In  a  short  time  every  body  on  the  plantation  was  dressed 
and  stirring,  though  it  was  some  time  before  day.  The  news 
had  gone  from  bed  to  bed.  The  Lincoln  gun-boats  were 
coming  up  the  river.  Something  was  going  to  be  done.  By 
daybreak  a  crowd  of  people  were  near  the  river  bank ;  they 
had  heard  the  news  and  had  come  from  the  back  country 
to  see. 

The  sun  was  rising  as  the  masts  of  the  Hartford  were  seen 
across  the  bend.  There  were  vast  clouds  of  smoke  across 
the  land,  and  that  was  where  the  river  ran.  After  a  little 
the  fleet  came  in  sight.  Seldom  had  ships  from  the  sea  come 
up  so  far.  The  river  was  filled  with  them.  "We  are  aston- 
ished. What  can  our  batteries  do  with  so  many?  They 
will  give  them  good  reception.  Yes,  they  will  shoot  well. 
Would  that  our  works  were  finished,  for  here  at  Vicksburg 
we  make  a  stand.  We  have  lost  Columbus,  Island  Ten,  Fort 
Pillow  and  Memphis.  We  have  lost  Xew  Orleans.  That 
was  hardest  of  all.  And  Baton  Rogue  is  theirs.  We  must 
hold  Vicksburg.  Once  place  is  as  good  as  many  if  we  hold 
it.  We  must  not  give  it  up.  Oh !  that  our  defences  were 
finished. 

Mr.  Harper  went  into  his  room  to  get  some  things.  He 
was  wanted  in  the  city.  Two  messengers  had  come  for  him. 
He  went  into  Maria's  room  and  stood  at  the  foot  of  the  bed. 
He  was  dressed  in  his  uniform.  He  glared  on  her  with  cold 
hard  eyes.  She  looked  at  him  with  meek  but  dry  eyes.  He 
turned  and  departed.  Xeither  spoke. 

When  the  sun  was  well  in  the  sky,  the  batteries  of  the 
town  opened  on  the  ships.  Although  it  was  quite  a  distance, 
the  sound  jarred  the  house  to  its  foundations.  Then,  another 


102  LIFE  IN  THE  WEST. 

battery  opened  and  they  played  lively.  Maria  bade  Ellen 
go  to  the  window  and  tell  her  what  she  saw.  She  said  the 
ships  were  moving  about.  On  some  of  the  decks  there  were 
crowds  of  men,  partly  black  and  partly  blue,  while  many, 
from  top  to  bottom  were  all  blue.  One  ship  seemed  first, 
opposite  the  house,  and  only  a  little  smoke  came  out  of  the 
chimney.  Ah,  here  were  two  more  ships  coming  with  great 
tall  masts,  and  a  tug  boat  was  between  them.  There  were 
six  square  black  windows  on  the  side.  All  the  men  wore 
caps,  and  had  dark  clothes.  There !  that  is  another  battery 
from  the  town ;  it  must  be  their  big  gun.  The  noise  was 
almost  too  much  for  Maria.  She  shut  her  eyes.  Suddenly, 
she  half  sprang  up  in  her  bed,  for  there  had  been  a  snap,  a 
smash,  and  an  awful  crash.  It  seemed  as  though  it  were  right 
in  front  of  the  window ;  she  did  not  know  but  the  roof  of 
the  house  was  coming  down.  Ellen  had  run  back.  She  said 
the  ships  had  commenced  to  shoot.  She  saw  the  flash  and 
the  smoke.  What  were  they  going  to  do  ?  She  believed 
they  would  all  be  killed.  Maria  listened.  Another  gun 
fired  further  off,  then  two  close  by.  The  glass  and  the  sash 
shook,  and  the  vials  and  tumblers  danced  on  her  stand. 
When  she  saw  that  this  was  the  worst,  she  grew  calmer,  and 
after  a  little  she  smiled.  She  said  they  might  fire,  she  did 
not  care.  She  knew  it  would  come  to  this.  They  were  her 
friends ;  the  Commodore  was  her  friend ;  all  the  officers  were 
her  friends.  The  gunners,  the  firemen,  and  the  humblest  on 
board  were  her  friends. 

Towards  night  the  ships  dropped  down  out  of  range. 
There  had  been  confusion  all  day.  Smoke  rose  from  the 
plantations  along  the  coast.  Cotton  was  burning.  Many 
families  deserted  their  houses.  The  militia  men  filled  the 
country  roads  on  their  way  to  Vicksburg. 

Mr.  Harper  came  home  long  after  dark.  A  Confederate 
soldier  had  gone  ahead  to  let  him  know  if  any  of  the  enemy 
were  about.  As  he  alighted  at  the  stable  he  asked  how  they 
got  along.  There  had  been  great  doings.  Ah,  what  was  it? 
Fifteen  of  the  best  hands  had  left — gone  on  the  gun-boats — 


THE  MISSISSIPPI   RIVER.  103 

were  to  have  fifteen  dollars  a  month  and  board  and  clothes, 
but  they  took  all  their  clothes.  After  that,  forty  or  fifty 
sailors,  those  fellows  with  caps  and  big  flannel  shirt  collars, 
came  ashore  in  boats,  and  they  killed  the  steers,  and  they 
took  off  all  the  sheep,  every  sheep.  They  did  not  go  in  the 
house,  because  some  of  them  with  muskets  and  short  swords 
stood  by  the  door  and  kept  others  out ;  but  somehow  they 
got  a  crock  of  butter — nobody  saw  them  do  it.  Then  they 
all  had  to  have  dinner — the  Lord  knows  how  many  of  them, 
and  one  kissed  the  light  colored  girl  that  waits  on  the  table. 
Three  or  four  of  them  sung  a  song.  It  was  about  the  White, 
Red  and  Blue.  Then  they  asked  where  master  was,  they 
wanted  to  see  him.  Yes,  yes.  There  will  be  a  settlement 
one  of  these  days,  and  a  heavy  one  too.  Did  they  look  at 
the  horses?  No;  they  said  they  would  come  again.  Ah, 
did  they  ?  In  the  morning  the  horses  must  be  taken  to  the 
swamp. 

He  came  into  Maria's  room  with  a  heavy  tread.  His  hat 
was  in  his  hand,  and  his  sword  was  by  his  side.  He  told 
her  her  friends  had  been  plundering  the  plantation  all  day. 
He  was  poorer  by  twenty  thousand  dollars  than  he  was  in 
the  morning.  He  supposed  she  was  glad  of  it.  When  she 
got  well  he  thought  he  would  make  a  field-hand  of  her.  She 
deserved  it ;  she  was  fit  for  nothing  else.  She  said  she  would 
go.  She  did  not  know  that  she  was  any  better  than  the  rest 
of  the  poor  creatures.  He  doubled  his  fist  and  raised  it  on 
high  as  if  he  would  strike  her ;  he  brought  it  down  to  her 
face  and  gave  it  a  hundred  quivers.  She  closed  her  eyes  to 
hide  the  sight ;  she  gave  a  loud  cry  and  became  senseless. 
Then-he  left  her. 

Some  time  in  the  night  they  restored  her.  Her  first 
thoughts  were  that  she  wyould  be  happy  if  she  could  go  out 
with  the  slave  women  and  work  in  the  cotton.  She  would 
welcome  heat,  coarse  clothes  and  measured  food.  All  day 
she  would  work  faithfully.  She  could  talk  and  sympathise 
with  them,  and  they  with  her.  They,  too,  were  her  friends. 

The  house  was  early  astir,  for  the  ships  Avere  moving  up 


104  LIFE   IN   THE  WEST. 

again.  With  the  first  dawn  of  light  the  windows  rattled 
and  the  house  jarred  with  the  opening  guns.  It  was  the 
sweetest  music  she  ever  heard.  It  was  enough  to  throw  a 
man  from  his  feet,  almost  enough  to  raise  the  dead,  if  they 
could  be  raised,  and  yet  at  each  report  she  smiled.  Soon 
the  air,  thick  and  blue  and  smelling  of  powder,  filled  the 
room.  It  was  like  the  choicest  perfume. 

Again  Mr.  Harper  came  and  stood  at  the  foot  of  the  bed. 
She  would  not  look  at  him,  and  closed  her  eyes.  He  went 
away.  Then  came  into  her  mind  some  of  those  passages  of 
Scripture  which  in  all  ages  support  those  who  are  weary  and 
heavy  laden.  "  Be  merciful  unto  me,  O  God,  be  merciful 
unto  me,  for  my  soul  trusteth  in  thee.  Yea,  in  the  shadow 
of  thy  wings  will  I  make  my  refuge  until  these  calamities  be 
overpast.  I  will  cry  unto  God  the  most  high  that  perform- 
eth  all  things  for  me.  He  shall  send  an  angel  from  heaven 
and  save  me  from  the  reproach  that  would  swallow  me  up." 
She  was  comforted,  and  believed  she  would  be  saved.  Then 
she  thought  of  the  days  when  she  was  at  school.  She  thought 
of  Oscar.  "  Lover  and  friend  thou  has  put  far  from  me,  and 
my  acquaintance  into  darkness."  Meanwhile,  the  cannon  of 
the  fleet  and  the  shore  batteries  roared.  She  made  them 
roll  her  bed  so  that  she  could  see  the  river.  It  flashed  its 
broad  waters  between  the  masts  made  of  ]STew  England 
pines.  The  smoke  of  the  guns  rose  and  became  wide  clouds 
obscuring  the  sun.  All  day  the  fight  went  on.  Ho  wit  was 
going  she  did  not  know,  but  she  was  conscious  that  it  would 
continue,  though  there  might  he  pauses,  till  the  river  should 
be  free.  That  night  Mr.  Harper  came  to  her  side.  He  sat 
in  a  chair.  They  looked  at  each  other.  Neither  spoke.  Then 
he  went  away. 

Yicksburg  was  in  new  danger.  Commodore  Foote  and 
his  captains  had  come  down  from  above  with  black  iron- 
clads, and  he  had  given  a  hand  to  Farragut.  The  city  was 
between  two  fires.  But  the  rebels  worked  night  and  day. 
They  built  new  batteries  and  they  fired  right  and  left.  They 
shall  have  the  credit  of  fighting  well.  Up  the  Yazoo  they 


THE  MISSISSIPPI   RIVER.  105 

had  a  powerful  ram,  the  Arkansas,  nearly  finished.  It  will 
come  down  at  the  earliest  day.  The  Commodore  hastens  to 
take  the  city.  He  knows  their  plans.  He  shelled  all  day 
long.  In  a  quiet  place  lay  thirty-four  mortar  boats,  these, 
every  few  minutes,  and  all  night  long  sent  a  globe  of  de- 
struction weighing  three  hundred  pounds  into  the  devoted 
city.  The  people  fled  beyond  the  hills  or  dug  caves  in  them. 
One  day  the  Arkansas  is  seen  coming  out  of  the  Yazoo. 
She  steams  straight  for  our  vessels.  Some  she  sinks,  others 
she  disables.  Our  ironclads  fire  on  her,  our  balls  glance 
harmless  from  her  iron  sides.  At  last,  we  send  a  ball 
through  a  port-hole ;  twenty  men  are  killed,  her  engine  is 
disabled.  She  flees,  and,  half  a  wreck,  works  her  way  to  the 
Vicksburg  landing.  Once  more,  afterwards,  she  will  attack 
us.  The  brave  Porter  is  ready.  He  finishes  what  before 
was  begun ;  she  is  blown  up  and  burned,  and  her  dead 
and  dying  are  scattered  on  the  waters  of  the  great  river. 

We  know  now  that  when  the  bombardment  was  hottest 
and  highest  that  the  city  could  have  been  taken ;  its  de- 
fenders had  fled — there  were  none  to  show  the  white  flag; 
we  relaxed  our  efforts,  they  returned,  built  new  works, 
heavier  guns  were  sent  them ;  at  last  we  withdraw. 

Soon,  however,  Sherman  will  attack  with  a  large  army 
from  a  base  on  the  Yazoo.  He  comes  to  the  rear ;  behind 
breastworks  they  are  ready,  the  battle  rages,  and  he  retires 
leaving  his  dead  and  Avounded.  He  can  do  no  more. 

A  hard  place  to  take  is  this  Vicksburg  on  the  Walnut 
Hills.  During  these  struggles  the  rebels  were  fearful  of  the 
result.  They  might  lose  Vicksburg ;  and  if  they  should  be 
driven  from  place  to  place,  what  could  they  expect  ? 

At  last  Maria  was  able  to  sit  up,  and  she  even  went  down 
and  looked  around,  and  sat  in  the  cabins  with  the  slaves. 
They  came  around  her,  and  looked  tenderly  on  her.  She 
felt  that  they  were  not  so  low  but  they  could  pity  her. 
They  were  deeply  interested  in  hearing  her  talk  about  her 
folks  and  the  country  she  came  from.  Surely  now,  some  of 
them  could  visit  her,  and  if  she  wanted  any  thing,  help  hen 
5* 


106  LIFE  IN  THE  WEST. 

One  evening  after  the  ships  had  gone,  he  sent  up  to  ask  if 
she  could  not  walk  down  to  supper;  if  she  could,  he  would 
like  to  have  her.  She  came  down  with  Ellen.  The  table 
was  not  spread  with  its  former  magnificence,  she  knew  that 
some  things  were  got  with  difficulty.  She  sat  opposite.  He 
asked  her  if  she  would  have  such  and  such  things,  but  he 
said  no  more.  She  thought  she  would  try  to  eat  and  to 
appear  cheerful.  She  looked  into  his  face  but  could  not 
catch  his  eyes.  Her  victuals  almost  phoked  her,  her  eyes 
swam,  and  she  bit  her  lips. 

At  other  times  when  he  came  home  he  frequently  asked 
her  to  come  to  the  table.  She  did  not  dare  to  come  unless 
he  did  ask  her.  He  would  not  converse  with  her,  and  she 
did  not  address  him.  When  she  spoke  to  the  attendants,  he 
could  hear  her  sad  sweet  voice. 

Often  after  such  meals  she  would  throw  herself  on  the 
bed  and  weep.  She  felt  that  she  lived  in  a  land  of  darkness, 
the  light  whereof  was  darkness.  Mentally,  she  would  ad- 
dress her  father.  How  little  had  he  ever  thought  that  his 
daughter  would  be  cast  aside  as  despised  and  worthless. 
Then  she  took  refuge  in  the  Bible,  and  looking  beyond  this 
life,  and  over  the  extent  of  the  existence  of  the  soul,  she 
became  calm,  and  as  happy  as  many  times  she  had  been  in 
her  fortunate  days.  Her  father  would  prepare  a  place  for 
her,  he  would  be  the  first  to  take  her  hand,  when  she  should 
rise  out  of  the  river  of  death,  and  they  would  live  with  each 
other  and  with  the  saints  forever  more. 

During  a  part  of  this  time  the  bombardment  continued, 
when  she  would  fervently  pray  for  the  success  of  the  Union 
army.  How  the  cause  was  progressing  elsewhere  she  knew, 
for  papers  still  came  into  the  house,  though  having  passed 
through  many  hands,  they  were  in  tatters. 

At  the  commencement  of  the  year  it  became  known  that  a 
large  expedition  was  fitting  out  at  Memphis,  and  all  the 
boats  were  pressed  into  government  service.  It  was  clear 
that  a  grand  attack  was  to  be  made  on  Vicksburg,  and  that 
what  they  already  had  endured  was  but  an  introduction. 


THE   MISSISSIPPI   RIVER.  107 

They  had  not  been  idle,  and  now  they  put  forth  new  efforts ; 
new  and  long  lines  of  defences,  and  strong  forts  were  con- 
structed, and  new  river  batteries  with  heavier  cannon  were 
planted. 

General  Grant  is  their  commander  now.  We  met  him  at 
Donelson  and  Shiloa,  and  we  must  prepare  for  him,  for  he 
differs  from  their  Macks,  their  Buets,  and  their  Porters.  It 
seems  that  he  is  much  given  to  smoking  and  thinking,  and 
cares  about  nothing  so  much  as  fighting ;  he  does  not  even 
want  to  be  President.  We  had  rather  vote  for  him  than 
fight  him.  But  we  will  beat  him ;  we  will  bring  every 
thing  to  a  focus,  we  will  drive  back  his  armies,  and  hold  the 
river ;  then  peace  will  come,  and  we  shall  have  our  inde- 
pendence. 

We  hear  of  him,  now,  at  Lake  Providence ;  he  is  trying 
to  get  through  the  bayous  into  the  Red  River ;  again,  he  is 
in  Yazoo  Pass,  hiding  the  water  with  his  boats ;  then  in  the 
Cold  Water,  and  he  will  try  to  get  in  our  rear  above 
Hayne's  Bluff.  Wo  send  batteries  across,  through  swamps, 
by  dry  land  and  by  water,  and  at  the  Tallahatchie  we  plant 
them ;  we  tear  his  ironclads,  riddle  his  transports,  he  cannot 
pass  us,  and  he  works  his  way  slowly  backwards.  Xow  we 
hear  of  him  in  the  Sun  Flower,  the  Lord  knows  how  he  got 
there,  but  they  say  he  had  engineers  who  could  do  wonders, 
once  back-wood  sawyers,  school  teachers,  merchants,  far- 
mers,— men  with  twisted  noses  and  hawk  eyes,  but  he  can- 
not run  his  boats  thither,  and  now  he  comes  kiteing  down 
on  us,  fair  in  front  and  goes  to  work  digging  a  canal  by 
which  he  will  make  our  Vicksburg  a  town  in  the  country 
where  the  river  used  to  run.  Why  does  he  not  fight  us  in 
front,  and  what  does  he  want  to  get  below  us  for?  We 
shall  be  here.  Do  you  say  he  will  take  us  in  the  rear  and 
cut  us  off  from  Hayne's  Bluff?  Truly,  he  might  do  that. 
Something  of  a  wiery  fellow  is  this  man  Grant — as  well  as 
the  men  under  him.  That  clay  is  tougher  than  they,  the 
river  will  not  do  their  bidding,  still  they  dig  night  and  day, 
and  he  bombards  us,  he  and  that  man  Porter  bombarding 


108  LIFE   IN   THE   WEST. 

us,  and  it  is  a  sore  time  for  the  women  and  their  little  ones. 
"Woe  to  us,  what  is  this  ?  Last  night,  in  the  thunder,  light- 
ning and  rain  his  vast  fleet  slipped  past  our  batteries,  and 
though  we  burn  buildings  to  make  the  river  light,  and  fire 
from  all  our  guns,  away  he  goes,  and  now  what  next  ?  They 
say  his  army  is  on  the  march  across  the  river,  doubtless  to 
appear  elsewhere.  Truly  this  man  Grant  is  terrible.  He 
rages  like  a  wrolf  around  a  sheep  fold ;  he  gnaws,  he  digs,  he 
tears,  he  makes  the  air  hideous  with  noise,  first  on  one  side, 
then  on  another,  now  on  all  sides  to  get  at  us ;  he  is  remorse- 
less, cruel,  bloody,  and  he  holds,  they  say  200,000  men 
ready  to  spring  on  us, — yes,  springing  on  us,  to  wrest  away 
our  last  hold  on  the  river.  That  is  not  a  human  soul  of  his, 
fot  when  darkness  and  despair  should  come  over  him,  and 
when  other  men  shrink  and  Avither  away,  he  launches  his 
men  on  us — men  brought  up  to  labor,  mere  common  men, 
and  we  who  are  gentlemen  are  shot  down  by  them.  He  will 
not  give  up.  Why  will  they  not  let  us  alone  ?  We  do  not 
want  war.  But  we  will  fight.  There  is  nothing  left  for  us 
if  wTe  do  not  fight  them — if  wre  are  victors  there  will  not  be 
much  left.  Did  you  say  we  have  not  men  enough  ?  Truly 
we  should  have  more.  For  these  Yankees  have  fighting 
cocks  among  them, — yes,  yes,  we  admit  at  last  that  they  do 
fight.  It  wrould  have  been  money  in  our  pockets,  and  sunny 
days  would  have  run  on,  had  we  known  before  that  they 
Avould  fight  like  this. 

When  the  fleet  had  passed  Vicksburg,  it  was  in  a  sack, 
Port  Hudson  being  below.  The  army  marched  across  the 
country  on  the  west  side  to  Bruinsburg.  Grand  Gulf  was 
another  fortified  place,  and  beautiful,  the  river  being  be- 
tween two  and  three  miles  wide,  but  it  was  flanked  by  this 
movement,  and  it  surrendered.  On  May  1st  Grant  fought 
and  defeated  the  rebels  at  Port  Gibson,  and  on  the  3d  at 
Fourteen  Mile  Creek.  Then  he  rapidly  pushed  his  army 
northward  to  throw  himself  between  Vicksburg  and  the 
covering  army  of  Johnston.  A  series  of  battles  were  then 
fought  in  rapid  succession  as  follows :  at  Raymond  May 


THE   MISSISSIPPI   EIYER.  109 

12th,  at  Jackson  the  14th,  at  Champion  Hill  the  16th,  and  at 
Big  Black  on  the  17th.  In  all  these  he  was  victorious. 

Notwithstanding  all  these  successes  his  army  was  in  a 
critical  condition.  He  had  left  Bruinsburg  with  only  a  few 
days'  rations  and  no  transportation.  The  country  was  over- 
run with  armies.  However,  he  marched  immediately  upon 
Vicksburg,  and  drove  Pemberton  within  the  defences.  As  a 
consequence,  the  strongly  garrisoned  post  at  Hayne's  Bluff 
was  forced  to  evacuate ;  this  opened  the  Yazoo  for  our  trans- 
ports from  above,  and  supplies  at  once  were  poured  into  our 
camp.  On  the  whole,  these  vast  movements  were  wisely 
planned  and  executed  with  astonishing  rapidity.  On  May 
22d  a  direct  attack  was  made  on  their  works,  principally  by 
Logan's  men  on  Fort  Hill,  which  was  unsuccessful. 

After  the  first  flank  movements  had  commenced  Mr.  Har- 
per seldom  was  at  home.  He  was  either  in  the  army  or  the 
town.  When  they  had  been  driven  from  the  field  at  Ray- 
mond he  came  home  to  spend  a  few  hours  in  looking  after 
his  affairs,  and  in  resting  from  fatigue.  Several  gentlemen 
came  with  him,  and  the  bustle  that  was  made  seemed  to 
revive  old  times. 

Maria  had  heard  of  the  rebel  disasters,  and  she  knew  that 
Mr.  Harper  would  be  more  pleasant  to  her,  for  his  conduct 
was  gauged  by  the  success  or  ill  success  of  their  arms.  When 
the  prospects  were  bright  she  dreaded  to  meet  him.  She 
was  much  recovered,  and  her  cheeks  glowed  with  red 
amidst  the  lilly  white.  She  presided  at  the  table,  and  con- 
versed with  the  guests  on  common  topics.  Then  she  retired 
to  her  room,  and  saw  no  more  of  her  husband  till  three 
o'clock  in  the  morning.  They  had  eaten  breakfast  and  would 
soon  start.  He  sat  by  her  bed,  and  took  her  hand.  She 
must  try  and  pardon  him  for  much  that  had  passed.  He 
had  learned  something  since  that  dreadful  day.  He  was 
going  into  the  battle.  Every  one  that  could  lend  must  en- 
courage the  soldiers  by  example.  It  was  a  hard  condition, 
but  it  could  not  be  helped.  Her  folks  would  fight  after  all. 
He  might  be  struck  down  as  so  many  of  their  best  had  been, 


110  LIFE  IN  THE  WEST. 

and  struck  too  perhaps  by  the  hand  of  a  common  man.  But 
he  would  do  his  best.  Should  he  never  come  back,  he  knew 
not  what  to  say.  His  affairs  were  embarrassed,  but  much 
would  be  left.  Till  better  times  come  he  would  ask  nothing 
of  her  only  this ;  he  ought  to  ask  it  considering  whither  he 
was  going — would  she  pardon  him  ?  Oh,  yes.  He  raised 
her  hand  to  his  lips,  kissed  it,  and  was  gone. 

Mr.  Harper  and  his  company  rode  fast  across  the  country, 
and  striking  one  of  the  Vicksbui'g  roads,  joined  reinforce- 
ments going  out  of  the  city.  As  they  approached  the  Big 
Black  they  heard  the  Union  cannon. 

Ah,  they  seek  to  dislodge  our  forces  that  they  may  cross. 
If  we  can  prevent  them,  and  for  three  days  keep  them 
where  they  are,  they  will  perish,  for  they  have  no  supplies. 
But  there  are  many  of  them — hosts — to  the  last  we  will  de- 
fend the  crossing.  How  can  they  make  way  through  our 
fires  ?  Every  man  of  them  will  be  shot  down.  Indeed,  they 
can  not  do  it.  They  are  fools  in  making  the  attempt.  Surely 
they  should  know  more.  Yes,  we  thought  so — see,  they  are 
falling  back — they  are  ruined  and  we  are  saved.  But  what 
mean  these  fugitives  of  ours  in  the  rear  ?  Why,  our  artillery 
is  retreating,  some  are  cutting  the  traces  and  they  mount  and 
flee.  Alas,  they  have  ciossed  above  us — they  are  coming 
down,  wagons  choke  the  way — let  him  save  himself  who  can, 
for  these  are  not  our  men.  Still,  all  is  not  lost — for  do  we 
not  hold  Vicksburg  ? 

The  next  day  at  sunrise  an  ambulance  drove  into  the  large 
gate  of  Mr.  Harper's  mansion.  The  people  were  all  up,  and 
had  been  for  hours.  During  the  week  there  had  been  a  bat- 
tle or  a  skirmish  every  day,  and  the  news  had  come  in  the 
night.  The  jaded  horses  drew  their  load  up  the  carriage- 
way, and  stopped  at  the  front  door.  A  friend  of  the  fam- 
ily got  out  and  came  up  the  steps.  Maria  was  told  that 
Mr.  Harper  was  dead,  and  that  they  had  brought  him  home. 
After  he  was  taken  out  and  laid  on  some  tables  in  the  parlor, 
something  wrapped  in  a  cloth  was  brought  in  and  laid  by 
his  side.  It  was  his  arm.  There  was  a  cloth  black  with 


THE  MISSISSIPPI  RIVER.  Ill 

blood  bound  over  the  top  of  his  head.  He  had  been  in  the 
thick  of  the  fight,  and  would  not  surrender  to  a  Union  cav- 
alry man,  whose  sabre  finished  what  the  cannon  ball  had 
commenced.  No  coffin  could  be  had  till  the  next  day.  One 
of  the  Creole  women,  a  house-servant,  and  who  was  the  mother 
of  a  boy  almost  white,  raised  the  cloth  on  his  head  and  did 
not  shed  a  tear.  In  the  night  Maria  heard  a  terrible  scream. 
The  friend  who  had  been  watching  the  corpse  had  left  the 
room  and  locked  it.  On  going  back,  and  as  he  turned  the 
key,  the  scream  arose.  No  one  was  there  but  the  window 
was  open. 

And  the  siege  of  Vicksburg  went  on.  The  Union  army 
drew  nearer  day  by  day,  the  ironclads  dropped  down,  the 
cannons  roared  and  the  musketry  rattled  from  right  to  left ; 
from  left  to  right,  in  long  lines.  It  was  boom,  boom  from 
morning  to  night.  Maria  hardly  ever  awoke  in  the  night  but 
it  was  boom,  boom.  With  intense  anxiety  she  waited  from 
day  to  day,  to  learn  the  pi-ogress  of  the  siege.  Neither  side 
was  willing  to  give  up.  She  knew  now  it  would  go  on. 
Grant  was  receiving  reinforcements,  five,  ten,  and  twenty 
thousand  in  a  day.  Anxiety  was  felt  through  the  whole 
South,  in  Mobile,  Charleston,  and  Richmond.  It  was  felt  in 
the  whole  North,  Boston,  New  York,  Washington,  St.  Louis, 
San  Francisco.  It  was  felt  through  the  whole  world,  in  Lon- 
don, Paris,  Canton  and  Calcutta.  It  will  be  felt  and  under- 
stood through  all  ages  of  time. 

Meanwhile  foraging  parties  were  sent  out  in  all  directions. 
Plantations  were  stripped  of  grain,  cattle,  and  of  everything 
that  could  feed  or  be  of  use  to  the  army.  Maria  wrote  a 
letter  to  headquarters,  briefly  giving  her  history,  and  asking 
protection.  She  asked  to  be  sent  North,  or  that  a  guard 
might  be  given  her.  The  guerrillas  were  seizing  what  the 
army  spared.  No  attention  was  paid.  Everything  was 
pressing.  So  small  a  matter  was  crowded  away  by  larger 
matters.  Oscar  was  in  the  army ;  she  wrote  to  him.  The 
next  day  twenty  soldiers,  with  their  own  rations,  came  and 
guarded  her. 


112  LIFE    IN    THE    WEST. 

When  the  war  broke  out  Oscar  had  acquired  a  wide  repu- 
tation. From  the  first,  he  gave  all  his  influence  and  time  and 
mind  to  the  Government.  He  spoke  to  many,  often,  to  vast 
audiences.  In  his  State  he  raised  one  of  the  first  regiments, 
and  was  its  commander.  With  his  firm  will,  with  his  phys- 
ical and  mental  energy,  with  his  ability  to  grasp  a  subject 
quickly  and  well,  and  with  his  ambition,  he  could  not  fail. 
Soon  he  commanded  a  brigade.  He  was  directed  to  perform 
a  difficult  work.  He  marched  with  his  men  day  and  night ; 
there  were  storms  of  snow,  rain  and  hail ;  they  crossed  rivers 
and  penetrated  thick  woods.  The  enemy  on  the  point  of  a 
great  Avork  was  surprised  and  defeated.  On  other  occasions 
he  was  distinguished. 

At  last,  Vicksburg  fell.  The  strongest  and  most  elaborate 
fortifications;  weapons  of  the  most  improved  construction, 
and  hosts  of  brave  veteran  soldiers  could  not  prevent  its  fall. 
They  had  been  allowed  ample  time ;  at  least  two  different  and 
furious  assaults  continued  for  weeks,  and  much  of  the  time 
by  night  and  day,  sufficiently  warned  them ;  they  had  gath- 
ered and  combined,  not  only  from  their  own  country,  but 
also  from  the  Old  World,  the  most  powerful  means  of  defence 
known  to  modern  times,  and  they  were  animated  with  all  the 
energy  and  desperation  mortal  man  can  feel.  All  was  in 
vain,  and  they  surrendered  forever  the  river  from  Itasca  to 
the  sea, 

One  day  Maria  noticed  several  soldiers  talking  with  the 
sentinel  at  the  gate.  They  were  cavalrymen,  and  their  horses 
were  hitched  to  the  fence.  She  was  wondering  what  was 
wranted  when  an  officer  came  in  view  close  to  the  door.  She 
started  up,  for  it  was  Oscar.  She  smiled  and  laughed,  and 
gave  him  her  hand — it  had  been  so  long  since  she  had  seen 
an  old  friend.  They  were  seated,  and  had  a  long  talk  about 
Oberlin  and  their  acquaintances. 

Dinner  was  ready.  It  was  neither  so  plentiful  nor  so  ele- 
gant as  formerly,  but  the  people  knowing  the  guest  was  from 
her  own  country,  and  that  he  was  a  Union  officer,  did  the 
best  they  could  and  even  contributed  something  they  had 


THE  MISSISSIPPI  RIVEK.  113 

saved  for  themselves.  She  was  really  cheerful,  but  she  re- 
membered nothing  of  the  past  except  they  had  been  friends. 

Being  again  by  themselves,  he  began  to  speak  of  himself, 
and  gradually  he  revealed  to  her  the  state  of  his  mind,  the 
doubts  he  had  of  the  Christian  religion,  and  the  immortal  it  y 
of  the  soul,  and  how  his  classmate  had  struggled  and  pleaded 
with  him.  She  was  deeply  interested — amazed  and  almost 
held  her  breath.  Then  he  showed  her  what  he  did  not  see 
at  that  time,  but  which  afterwards  was  clear  to  him :  that  in 
this  cold  state  he  was  unable  properly  to  value  his  Maria — 
unfaithful  to  his  God  he  was  unfaithful  to  her.  With  hesita- 
tion he  related  to  her  what  dreadful  horrors  flowed  from  his 
attentions  to  a  most  amiable  lady,  and  the  shame  and  dis- 
grace which  seized  him  when  another,  having  through  some 
source,  learned  his  history,  spurned  him.  Then  he  seriously 
reflected,  and  he  confessed  to  himself  what  a  hypocrite  he 
had  been,  and  how  little  he  had  understood  what  religion  is, 
or  how  broad  is  the  basis  in  the  human  heart  on  which  Chris- 
tianity rests.  Instead  of  seeking  support  by  faith,  till  his 
mind  should  be  able  to  take  wider  views,  he  depended  on 
himself  alone — and  the  result  was  that  he  became  nothing. 
But  he  was  thankful  that  his  life  had  been  spared,  that  he 
might  commence  anew.  Like  a  child  he  would  be  dependent 
and  look  upward. 

Then  he  told  her  that  though  he  had  been  separated  from 
her  by  impassable  gulfs,  his  heart  had  turned  back  towards 
her  with  a  power  he  was  unable  to  resist.  That  she  was  lost 
to  him,  plunged  him  into  untold  horrors.  As  he  became 
more  enlightened,  his  mind  continued  to  grow  more  tender 
towards  her,  and  finally,  his  wickedness  was  held  out  to  him 
in  all  its  enormity.  Upon  this  he  repeatedly  declared  to 
himself  what  he  would  do  if  an  opportunity  ever  should  offer. 
He  vowed  he  would  lie  upon  the  ground  at  her  feet,  where  he 
would  confess  to  her  how  hard  hearted,  how  blind  and  wick- 
edly cruel  he  had  been  in  his  conduct  towards  her,  and  if, 
while  lying  prostrate,  she  should  stamp  on  him  and  revile 
him,  perhaps  in  some  measure  she  might  be  avenged.  The 


114  LIFE   IN   THE   WEST. 

opportunity  was  presented.  When  she  saw  him  sinking 
clown,  she  seized  him  by  the  arm  and  said  she  would  not  per- 
mit it,  and  if  fie  did  not  obey  her  she  would  flee  from  him. 
It  was  before  God  he  was  to  humble  himself,  not  before  her 
a  weak  and  sinful  being.  But  it  was  pleasing  to  her  to  learn 
that  the  scales  had  dropped  from  his  eyes. 

After  this  he  called  on  her  again.  He  was  able  to  give 
her  great  assistance  in  saving  much  property  from  the  wreck 
of  things,  and  by  the  help  of  the  slaves  much  that  was  hid- 
den was  found. 

They  were  married.  He  was  selected  to  fill  an  important 
office.  The  splendor  of  his  reputation  could  add  little  to  her 
attractions ;  nothing  to  her  grace  and  beauty.  Moving  in 
the  best  society,  no  lady  in  that  brilliant  throng  was  more 
admired. 

Only  a  little  was  required  to  complete  their  happiness,  and 
that  little  came.  But  one  night,  after  they  had  removed  to 
their  Western  home,  Maria  waited  for  her  husband.  With 
a  staggering,  heavy  step  he  entered.  Eagerly  she  sprang 
forward  and  asked  what  was  the  matter.  One  hand  was  on 
his  breast,  with  the  other  he  pointed  to  blood  running  on  the 
floor.  She  screamed  and  assistance  came.  Minutes,  hours, 
perhaps  days,  passed.  She  noted  little  else  except  his  blood- 
less face  and  his  fixed  eyes. 

Alas !  this  is  not  a  world  of  rest.  Continually  do  the  bit- 
ter waters  return  and  the  hair  changes  to  gray.  Alone  in 
the  chamber  one  can  only  weep.  Still,  after  a  season,  smiles 
will  be  seen  through  the  mist  of  tears. 


MARCHING  ON. 

OLD  Dr.  Graham  came  from  Kentucky.  He  had  reasons 
for  believing  that  a  free  State  would  suit  him  best.  He 
was  the  most  skillful  doctor  in  the  country.  When  the 
reform  in  medicine  commenced,  he  was  asked  why  he  gavq 
so  much  calomel ;  he  said  he  had  to  do  it.  People  loaded 
themselves  down  with  fat  pork,  in  a  manner  made  soap- 
tubs  of  themselves,  and  then  called  on  him  to  clean  out  their 
soap-tubs.  Mild  medicines  would  have  no  effect ;  calomel 
alone  would  clean  them  out.  He  was  rough  but  kind.  He 
would  talk  to  the  women  as  though  they  were  cattle,  and 
they  would  laugh.  However,  he  died.  One  of  the  symp- 
toms of  his  disease  was  a  red  nose.  He  left  a  small  farm  in 
the  village  which  had  grown  around  him,  a  good  house  with 
things  tasty  about  it,  a  snug  office,  and  much  owing  to  him. 
It  was  said  that  the  reason  why  he  had  been  able  to  save 
property  was  because  he  got  his  whiskey  from  Kentucky. 

His  only  son  took  his  place.  He  had  finished  his  studies 
some  time  before,  and  the  two  had  practised  together.  He 
was  much  like  the  old  man,  only  he  was  temperate  and 
dressed  neatly.  Most  people  thought  he  was  the  best  doc- 
tor. It  is  true  he  lost  many  patients,  but  if  their  friends 
did  not  complain,  why  should  we  repine?  Dr.  Graham  got 
a  wife.  She  was  a  fine  woman,  beloved  by  all ;  she  was 
pious,  taught  at  Sunday-school,  and  grieved  at  nothing 
except  that  her  husband  would  not  go  with  her.  They  lived 
in  good  style,  and  had  every  comfort.  The  doctor  was  at- 
tentive to  his  business.  He  had  three  good  horses.  Usually 

(115) 


116  LIFE  IN  THE  WEST. 

he  rode  in  a  sulky.  Every  day  you  would  see  him  go 
out  of  the  village  at  a  rapid  pace.  If  you  were  around  a 
good  deal,  you  would  see  him  on  this  road  and  that ;  you 
would  see  him.  too,  among  the  hills ;  his  ride  was  fully  five 
miles  each  way;  sometimes  he  went  twenty-  and  he  was 
seen  equally  at  the  houses  of  the  rich  and  the  poor.  Unless 
he  really  was  unwell,  he  would  go  in  the  night  as  well 
as  in  the  day.  By  night  he  rode  horseback.  When  it  was 
raining  he  had  a  fine,  nice  suit  of  India-rubber  to  draw  over, 
and  he  came  to  the  sick-bed  fresh  and  dry.  On  the  whole, 
he  improved.  He  studied  his  cases.  He  began  to  doubt 
whether  it  was  proper  to  run  the  risk  of  maiming  and  mak- 
ing cripples  of  his  patients  with  calomel.  He  told  people 
to  be  more  temperate  in  their  living,  to  take  better  care  of 
themselves.  He  learned  much.  His  wife  taught  him  some 
things  concerning  which  books  are  silent.  Frequently,  as 
he  began  to  learn,  he  began  to  laugh.  He  saw  so  many 
curious  things.  A  doctor  has  a  better  chance  to  study 
human  nature  than  anybody  else. 

Then  two  important  events  occuri-ed.  One  was  the  death 
of  his  wife.  She  died  of  consumption.  Like  a  summer 
cloud,  pale,  wavering  and  spiritual,  she  was  lost  to  him  in 
heaven.  Religious  people  did  not  call  him  a  good  man. 
How  could  they,  when  he  used  such  language  ?  This  loss 
seemed  to  cut  him  down,  and  he  went  to  church.  He  would 
sit  on  his  office-steps  or  in  the  stores,  saying  little.  "When 
he  met  old  friends  he  seemed  hardly  to  notice  them,  but  he 
gave  them  a  low,  friendly  word. 

The  other  event  was  the  commencement  of  the  war.  At 
first,  he  thought  he  would  try  and  get  a  commission. 
But  he  stopped.  He  could  not  sympathize  with  the  North. 
For  years  the  South  had  been  wronged.  Intermeddlers  and 
negro-stealers  had  maddened  them.  Slavery  might  be  right 
or  wrong,  but  there  was  a  compact :  the  North,  by  electing 
a  president  opposed  to  giving  the  South  equal  rights  in  the 
Territories  clearly  was  ready  to  violate  that  compact.  The 
spirit  of  disunion  had  its  birth  in  the  North,  not  in  the 


MARCHING   ON.  117 

South.  Old  John  Brown  ought  to  have  suffered  a  thousand 
deaths.  But  there  was  another  question;  he  could  not 
think  of  having  the  country  divided.  He  had  too  much 
patriotism;  he  was  too  much  of  a  Kentuckian  to  agree  to 
that.  The  South  should  be  treated  kindly.  If  there  must 
be  war,  it  should  be  carried  on  for  the  avowed  and  only 
pm-pose  of  restoring  the  Union.  Then  he  thought  if  he 
should  go  he  might  do  some  good.  Beside  this,  he  would 
forget  much  of  his  trouble. 

Dr.  Graham  was  one  of  the  influential  men  of  the  county. 
In  many  western  counties  the  number  of  these  men  in  each 
does  not  exceed  half-a-dozen,  sometimes  not  more  than 
three.  The  people  waited  for  the  doctor  to  make  up  his 
mind.  They  knew  they  had  to  fight;  the  question  was 
whether  they  would  fight  Cook  County  with  Chicago  or 
South  Carolina.  The  doctor  and  his  friends  met  several 
times.  Finally,  they  decided  that  the  North  was  wrong  in 
everything  but  one,  and  the  South  right  in  everything  but 
one.  This  was  regarding  the  Union.  They  could  not  give 
it  up.  They  must  support  the  Administration.  If  the  South 
wanted  war,  she  should  have  it ;  they  would  whip  her,  give 
her  the  slaves,  give  her  more  slave  states,  and  tell  her  to 
behave  herself. 

The  doctor  could  make  a  speech  ;  for,  when  studying,  he 
had  hesitated  whether  he  would  be  a  lawyer  or  a  physician, 
and  he  had  read  Blackstone  and  pettifogged  cases.  He 
addressed  public  meetings ;  he  talked  with  the  people,  and 
ended  by  raising  a  regiment.  Almost  every  man  in  the 
regiment  knew  him.  Many  were  his  schoolmates.  The 
officers  of  his  staff  were  some  of  the  best  men  in  the  county. 
One  had  been  a  banker.  The  captains  had  families  and 
good  property  ;  most  of  the  privates  left  wives,  children 
and  snug  houses.  For  a  long  time  every  one  called  him 
Doc,  or  Doc  Graham.  Privates  gave  good  morning  to 
the  doc. 

Then  the  wives,  mothers,  fathers,  friends  came  to  see  them 
march.  They  told  the  doctor  to  take  good  care  of  the  boys. 


118  LIFE   IN   THE  WEST. 

Playfully  he  asked,  if  they  expected  none  would  be  hurt. 
Oh,  no ;  some  would  be  wounded,  some  killed.  What  they 
meant  was,  that  he  should  see  they  were  not  sent  to  places 
where  they  could  do  no  good,  and  yet  would  be  shot  down. 
He  promised  this.  He  felt  that  his  responsibility  was  great ; 
he  was  determined  to  be  faithful. 

The  regiment  did  not  reach  Fort  Donelson  in  time  to 
engage  in  the  fight.  They  went  thence  to  Pittsburg  Land- 
ing, and  were  in  the  two  days'  battle  of  Shiloh.  Here  they 
began  to  see  what  war  was.  Then  they  engaged  in  the 
long  approaches  to  Corinth,  and  were  at  its  capture.  By 
this  time  Commodore  Foote  had  taken  Memphis,  and  they 
inarched  across  to  this  city. 

Colonel  Graham  became  knoAvn  to  the  leading  officers  of 
the  army.  He  was  esteemed  for  the  care  he  took  of  his  men, 
and  for  their  strict  discipline.  In  all  their  marches,  no  citi- 
zens complained  of  their  depredations.  The  Colonel  was 
known  to  be  opposed  to  anything  like  subjugation.  His 
men  were  in  the  habit  of  using  the  term  "  abolition  war." 
When  it  became  necessary  to  guard  the  railroads  from 
Memphis  to  Florence,  Corinth,  Holly  Springs  and  Jackson, 
to  garrison  the  towns  and  to  establish  posts  every  few  miles, 
Colonel  Graham,  among  several,  was  selected,  as  one  well 
fitted  to  do  his  duty,  to  explain  to  the  people  the  object  of 
the  war  and  to  conciliate  them.  In  view  of  future  opera- 
tions, it  was  of  the  first  importance  to  make  West  Ten- 
nessee and  Northern  Mississippi  friendly  to  the  Federal 
Army.  The  Colonel  had  his  headquarters  at  a  flourishing 
and  handsome  town.  He  had  his  own  regiment  and  several 
companies  of  native  cavalry.  He  had  about  twenty  miles 
of  railroad  to  guard  each  way,  and  he  was  to  keep  out 
cavalry  and  scotits,  chasing  guerrillas  and  watching  rebel 
movements. 

He  ably  carried  out  his  instructions.  In  the  town,  he 
established  wise  police  regulations,  and  the  people  were  as 
undisturbed  as  they  were  before  the  war.  When  matters 
settled  down,  and  each  day  became  like  another,  the  Colonel 


MARCHING   ON.  119 

had  time  on  his  hands.  There  were  four  churches  and  he  at- 
tended; he  became  acquainted  with  the  leading  and  busi- 
ness men.  He  improved  the  opportunity  to  explain  the 
sentiments  of  the  Northern  people.  He  tried  to  remove 
their  prejudices.  The  army  did  not  come  to  devastate  the 
country  and  show  themselves  to  be  thieves  and  robbers. 
The  time  soon  came  when  he  had  to  prove  his  words  true. 
Some  slaves  had  run  away,  and  were  working  for  his  officers. 
Their  owners  applied  for  them ;  he  cheerfully  gave  them  up. 
He  ordered  they  should  not  be  harbored  within  the  lines. 
His  men  willingly  obeyed,  although  they  found  the  blacks 
useful.  Some  of  his  men,  when  on  picket-duty,  had  burnt 
rails.  He  ordered  them  to  make  new  ones;  and  not  only 
this,  but  enough  to  pay  for  the  timber.  They  were  all  one 
people :  it  was  true  they  must  fight  in  battle,  but  the  prop- 
erty of  all  citizens  must  be  respected.  The  people  were 
pleased  with  this ;  it  was  a  pity  all  Northern  officers  were 
not  as  patriotic. 

One  tiling  troubled  Colonel  Graham.  The  people  had 
parties  and  balls.  He  and  his  officers  were  not  always  in- 
vited. It  struck  him  that  they  considered  there  was  some 
kind  of  a  Avail  between  them.  The  Colonel  was  fond  of 
female  society,  and  he  was  fitted  to  adorn  it,  and  he  knew 
it.  When  he  met  fine  ladies  on  the  street  he  gracefully  re- 
cognized them ;  they  would  bow,  often  smile,  pleased,  but  it 
was  some  time  before  he  detected,  after  they  had  passed, 
contemptuous  tones  and  gestures.  Could  it  be  they  de- 
spised him  because  he  was  a  Federal  officer  ?  He  learned  to 
observe  more  closely.  When  he  compared  the  reception 
they  gave  him  to  that  they  gave  outspoken  rebel  gentlemen, 
he  bit  his  lips.  His  officers  joked  him  on  his  want  of  suc- 
cess, and  they  told  him  if  he  would  be  more  strict  he  would 
find  the  ladies  almost  in  love  with  him.  But  he  had  his 
joke  on  them ;  they  had  no  better  success.  They  concluded 
that  the  whole  subject  required  a  little  study. 

Then  came  the  rebel  attack  on  Holly  Springs.  A  most 
beautiful  town  was  reduced  to  ashes,  millions  worth  of  gov- 


120  LIFE   IN   THE   WEST. 

eminent  property  was  destroyed.  General  Grant's  plan  of 
attack  on  Vicksburg  by  land  was  broken  up.  Simul- 
taneous attacks  were  made  on  various  garrisons  through 
to  Columbus.  Colonel  Graham  defended  his  post  bravely, 
and  the  enemy  was  repulsed.  Then  came  the  pursuit  of 
Forrest  under  Sullivan,  and  the  rebels'  defeat  at  Parker's 
Cross  Roads.  Still,  the  guerrillas  swarmed  through  the 
country ;  their  spies  and  agents  were  everywhere. 

A  complaint  came  from  headquarters  to  Colonel  Graham, 
that  he  was  better  to  defeat  rebels  than  to  detect  their  spies. 
He  must  establish  a  rigorous  system  of  passes ;  all  trading 
with  the  county  and  the  town  must  stop.  It  was  known 
that  the  guerrillas  bought  supplies,  revolvers  and  ammuni- 
tion in  the  town.  He  obeyed  to  the  letter,  and  was  glad  to 
do  it.  It  made  the  old  fellows,  and  the  young  fellows,  and 
the  girls  who  could  not  see  their  beans,  squirm,  and  they 
came  to  him.  He  was  busy,  could  not  talk,  but  he  could 
say  he  was  obeying  orders. 

Soon  there  was  a  change.  There  was  a  grand  ball.  The 
Colonel,  all  his  officers  and  some  of  the  privates  were  in- 
vited. Every  attention  was  paid  to  them  ;  the  Colonel  could 
dance  with  any  lady  as  many  times  as  he  chose.  He  over- 
heard that  he  was  witty,  that  his  officers  were  witty ;  all 
were  perfect  gentlemen.  There  were  select  parties,  morning 
calls,  meetings  on  the  street ;  no  ladies  ever  were  more 
charming.  The  Major  had  been  in  a  bank.  His  eyebrows 
hung  over,  his  beard  was  bristly.  He  said  he  had  a  wife 
at  home.  He  did  not  care  how  handsome,  how  free  the 
women  were.  No  one  could  tell  him  any  thing  new  about 
a  woman.  He  was  going  to  keep  a  lookout.  The  Colonel 
told  him  to  do  so.  The  Colonel  believed  in  the  Major. 

One  night  at  dark  the  scouts  brought  one  of  these  fine 
ladies  to  headquarters.  They  told  how  it  was.  It  will  be 
seen  whether  so  many  passes  amount  to  any  thing.  She 
protested  against  being  searched.  The  sutler's  lady  was  a 
thorough-going  woman.  She  brought  out  several  packages 
of  percussion  caps,  and  about  forty  letters.  The  Major  kept 


MARCHING  ON.  121 

the  lady  close  and  read  the  letters.  His  beard  bristled  more 
than  ever.  The  Colonel  came  in  quite  merry ;  when  he  got 
quiet  and  was  ready  to  go  to  bed  the  Major  showed  him  the 
letters.  He  sat  up  nearly  all  night.  Once  in  a  while  he 
would  speak  out,  not  in  an  unknown  tongue.  A  church 
member  would  have  been  shocked.  Sometimes  it  was  a  low- 
toned,  rapid  torrent.  He  mentioned  the  animal  subject  to 
hydrophobia,  and  the  place  of  darkness  and  despair.  One 
letter  he  read  several  times.  It  was  written  by  a  lady  with 
whom  he  had  spent  the  evening.  He  scarcely  could  believe 
his  eyes  that  she  would  wish  him  such  awful  things.  But  it 
was  plain  enough.  Then  there  were  letters  from  rich  old 
sinners  with  faces  of  the  color  of  a  copper  kettle.  They 
wrote  to  their  sons.  The  Colonel  had  a  fair  view  of  the 
inside  of  the  rebellion.  The  lady  was  sent  to  Memphis, 
thence  to  St.  Louis.  Then  the  Colonel  ordered  that  every 
one  within  his  lines  must  take  the  oath  of  allegiance.  Some 
flatly  refused.  He  sent  them  away.  The  rest  took  the  oath ; 
he  was  satisfied  many  did  it  with  mental  reservations.  By 
this  time  Colonel  Graham  concluded  the  Noith  had  a  big 
job  on  hand.  He  began  to  change  some  of  his  views. 

Short  time  after,  three  of  his  pickets  were  shot  in  one 
night.  The  next  night  one  was  shot.  The  regiment  was 
aroused.  Nearly  a  whole  company  went  out  after  dark  and 
lay  in  ambush.  Nothing  stirred.  They  lay  out  two  nights 
more.  Then  they  saw  three  men  crawl  through  a  corn-field, 
and  coming  to  the  road,  shoot.  The  company  arose  and 
took  them  prisoners. 

It  was  a  hard  case.  All  three  belonged  in  the  town,  and 
were  young  men.  Each  had  his  protection  papers  in  his 
pocket  showing  he  had  taken  the  oath  of  allegiance.  They 
were  tried  without  delay  and  found  guilty.  Several  men 
came  to  headquarters ;  they  hoped  the  Colonel  would  not  be 
hasty.  He  came  out  and  told  them  how  it  was.  Three  of 
his  soldiers  had  been  shot ;  they  were  his  neighbors,  and 
were  as  good  as  he  could  be,  if  he  tried.  Who  shot  them  ? 
Their  friends,  their  sous,  belonging  to  no  army.  Of  course 
G 


122  LIFE   IN   THE   WEST. 

they  were  nothing  but  murderers.  What  could  they  ex- 
pect ?  Surely  the  Colonel  would  consider.  They  were  young 
men  well  brought  up.  He  would  not  proceed  to  extremities, 
would  he  ?  Yes,  he  would. '  But  he  had  no  right  to  do 
this.  The  proceedings  must  be  submitted  for  General  Grant's 
approval.  General  Grant  was  a  very  good  man,  but  he 
knew  something  about  military  law  himself;  he  would  teach 
it  to  them  too.  Would  he  not  telegraph  to  Memphis,  or  let 
them  ?  Xo ;  and  he  would  speak  no  more.  The  young  men 
were  brought  out.  They  were  shot  and  their  bodies  given 
to  their  friends. 

At  dress  parade  the  Colonel  made  a  speech  to  his  men.  He 
went  over  much  ground  and  stated  to  them  some  things 
they  had  not  heard  before. 

There  was  necessity  for  greater  caution  ;  they  were  in  the 
country  of  an  enemy  who  was  deceitful  and  without  mercy. 
He  would  take  much  of  this  advice  to  himself.  They  must 
look  to  themselves,  and  he  hinted  that  there  might  be  a 
change  in  the  policy  of  the  war.  Some  of  his  men  were 
well  posted ;  they  were  glad  he  was  getting  his  eyes  open. 
It  was  known  through  the  camp  what  kind  of  game  the 
ladies  had  been  playing,  and  there  was  much  laughing. 
They  had  a  good  deal  to  say  about  making  rails.  One  of 
the  teamsters  thought  he  would  see  which  way  the  wind 
was  blowing,  and  he  hauled  a  load  of  rails  into  camp.  One 
time  the  Colonel  said  they  had  mighty  good  wood  to  make 
the  stove  so  hot.  Why,  it  was  rails.  About  this  time  he 
was  made  a  Brigadier.  More  soldiers  came,  mostly  cavalry. 
His  own  regiment  was  mounted  and  every  man  had  a  horse 
to  take  care  of.  They  picked  up  their  horses.  They  occu- 
pied all  the  stable  room  in  the  town.  They  turned  their 
horses  into  lots  where  there  was  anything  to  eat,  and  into 
yards.  They  hitched  them  in  door-yards  to  evergreens ; 
they  would  get  loose  and  browse  shrubbery.  Fine  fences 
would  get  down;  things  looked  desolate.  The  soldiers 
made  their  mark.  Every  morning  after  breakfast  eight  or 
ten  troopers,  with  haversacks  well  filled,  and  with  revolvers 


MARCHING    OX.  123 

and  carbines  would  ride  out  of  town  by  every  road.  They 
were  careless  till  they  passed  the  lines,  then  they  would  scan 
every  field  and  tree,  they  would  call  at  every  house,  they 
scoured  the  whole  country.  Often  they  had  fights.  Some- 
times it  went  one  way,  sometimes  another.  It  was  danger- 
ous for  less  than  five  well  armed  to  go  into  the  country. 
The  guerrillas  were  active  and  numerous.  Almost  every 
day  there  was  a  fight.  Two  freight  trains  were  burned  and 
passenger  trains  robbed.  Men  were  wounded,  killed  and 
taken  prisoners.  The  guerrillas  shot  four  at  one  time  after 
they  surrendered.  General  Graham  had  full  as  much  as  he 
could  attend  to. 

The  destruction  of  the  trains  made  provisions  and  forage 
scarce.  To  supply  the  deficiency  he  was  ordered  to  live  off 
of  the  country.  Trains  went  out  and  swept  the  country. 
The  people  of  the  town  said  they  never  saw  a  man  so 
changed  for  the  worse.  Once  in  a  while  he  talked  with 
them.  He  said  there  would  be  peace  when  the  rebels  laid 
down  their  arms.  They  said  they  had  heard  their  friends 
say  they  meant  to  gain  their  independence.  He  said  the 
war  would  go  on  then.  The  only  way  to  get  their  indepen- 
dence was  to  go  to  another  country;  they  could  not  have  it 
in  this. 

The  General  wanted  more  men.  He  wrote  asking  for  five 
companies.  None  could  be  spared.  When  friends  came 
from  the  North  they  were  asked  whether  Lincoln  was  not 
going  to  make  another  call.  Then  the  General  said  if  the 
people  made  his  men  so  much  Avork  he  would  keep  their 
runaway  slaves.  He  would  have  them  cook  and  drive 
teams,  and  he  told  the  men  to  help  the  slaves.  Then  the 
masters  flocked  in  to  get  their  boys.  He  needed  all  the  help 
he  could  get.  But  did  he  understand  that  as  loyal  citizens 
who  had  taken  the  oath,  they  had  constitutional  rights  ?  Yes, 
he  knew  all  that.  Did  they  know  there  was  a  rebellion  on 
hand,  and  that  it  took  men  to  put  it  down  ?  For  his  part, 
he  was  beginning  to  think  a  black  man  was  no  better  than 
a  white  man.  They  said  they  were  worth  a  thousand  dol- 


124  LIFE   IN   THE   WEST. 

lars  a  piece.  He  was  glad  of  it.  Such  men  would  be  of  use 
to  the  government.  But  the  slaves  were  their  property. 
Yes,  yes,  yes.  When  the  war  was  over  they  would  get  pay 
for  them.  They  supposed  they  would.  There  wras  Sam  and 
his  wife,  could  he  not  spare  them  ?  The  General  turned  to 
other  business. 

About  this  time  one  of  the  Adjutant-Generals  came  to  the 
command  to  talk  with  him.  According  to  the  census  there 
were  very  many  blacks  there.  What  would  be  the  chance 
to  raise  two  or  three  regiments  ?  It  could  be  done.  What 
was  his  opinion  on  the  subject  ?  It  was  a  good  plan.  He 
believed  they  would  fight  then  ?  This  he  knew  nothing 
about ;  but  they  should  be  made  to  fight.  Had  he  men  in 
his  regiment  who  would  make  good  officers  ?  Would  he 
name  them  ?  Cheerfully. 

There  was  no  asking  leave.  Able-bodied  blacks  were  taken 
wherever  they  could  be  found ;  they  were  drilled  and  put 
into  companies  and  regiments.  General  Graham  had  a  black 
man  who  took  the  place  of  a  soldier  and  waited  on  him. 
His  family  lived  in  the  country.  One  Sunday  he  went  to 
see  them.  The  next  day  the  scouts  found  him  in  the  road, 
not  only  murdered  but  cut  in  two  pieces,  as  if  with  an  ax. 
Only  a  few  days  before  two  of  his  men  died  from  eating 
poisoned  cherry  pie.  The  leading  men  of  the  town  agreed 
to  present  an  address  to  the  General  on  the  subject  of  arming 
their  slaves.  Ten  of  their  number  appeared  in  a  body  and 
handed  it  to  him  in  writing.  He  looked  at  the  paper  a  long 
time.  lie  turned  it  over  and  read  it  again.  Then  he  asked 
them  if  they  wanted  a  reply.  Yes,  if  it  would  not  take  up 
too  much  of  his  time.  They  thought  they  might  depend  on 
his  remonstrance,  at  least.  He  commenced,  and  after  saying 
a  few  words  stopped.  Yes,  they  should  hear  what  he  had  to 
say. 

It  was  plain  that  the  gentlemen  did  not  value  a  united 
country  except  on  the  condition  that  they  held  their  slaves. 
People  at  the  North  valued  it  so  much  that  they  had  given 
up  sons,  husbands,  fathers  and  brothers.  The  gentlemen 


MARCHING  OX.  125 

valued  slaves  more  than  a  united  nation  of  educated  and 
wealthy  freemen.  Their  hopes  were  fixed  on  holding  slaves, 
not  on  elevating  posterity.  The  people  of  the  North  never 
could  submit  to  disunion.  He  was  convinced  no  union  was 
possible  Avhile  slavery  remained.  He  was  convinced  that  the 
North  could  not  conquer,  he  was  willing  to  say  they  did  not 
deserve  to  conquer,  unless  they  made  the  blacks  earn  their 
freedom.  He  believed  if  slavery  was  continued  long  it  would 
so  debase  their  people  that  they  would  become  incapable  of 
sustaining  a  free  government.  He  would  tell  them  why.  He 
was  going  to  speak  the  truth.  It  would  make  them  bitter 
to  hear  it.  He  could  afford  to  speak ;  he  would  speak  from 
the  fulness  of  his  heart.  He  did  not  suppose  it  would  do 
them  any  good,  still,  in  his  words  would  be  their  only  sal- 
vation. 

In  all  his  reading  he  had  seen  no  accounts  of  greater  cru- 
elty than  their  people  had  practised.  They  had  violated  the 
most  common  rules  of  warfare ;  they  had  committed  the  most 
atrocious  crimes.  Saying  nothing  of  cases  within  his  knowl- 
edge, their  treatment  of  our  prisoners  would  cover  them  with 
everlasting  infamy.  The  accounts  of  their  sufferings  would 
make  the  blood  run  cold  in  the  last  age  of  the  world.  His 
body-servant  had  been  murdered  and  horribly  cut  into  two 
pieces ;  two  of  his  men,  within  a  short  time,  had  been  poi- 
soned. A  people  ready  to  commit  these  deeds  was  travelling 
on  the  high  and  broad  road  to  barbarism. 

The  gentlemen  must  know  another  thing.  In  all  West 
Tennessee  they  could  not  point  to  a  single  farm  which  had 
been  twenty  years  in  cultivation,  that  was  not  as  good  as 
ruined.  Let  the  slaveholders  have  the  whole  earth  and  they 
will  turn  it  into  a  desert.  Already  slavery  had  made  the 
vast  majority  of  their  people  wretchedly  poor.  There  was  no 
time  when  they  had  a  regular  and  full  supply  of  food. 
When  they  could  get  a  plenty  they  would  eat  till  they  could 
hold  no  more.  Look  at  them.  Small  legs,  big  bellies  and 
little  brains.  He  had  heard  of  their  children  eating  clay. 
He  thought  it  was  a  slander,  an  infamous  lie.  With  his  ovvn 


126  LIFE   IN    THE   WEST. 

eyes  he  had  seen  them  eat  it.  Not  one  in  a  hundred  ever 
saw  an  apple  in  winter.  The  flesh,  the  muscles,  every  tissue 
and  organ  of  their  bodies  was  elaborated  from  the  coarsest 
food,  principally  from  the  flesh  of  the  most  filthy  of  all  ani- 
mals. 

With  a  deathly  grasp  they  were  clinging  to  slavery.  They 
were  ready  to  commit  every  crime  to  preserve  it.  From  the 
lowest  to  the  highest  they  were  deceitful ;  in  the  accounts  of 
all  civilized  and  savage  nations  there  were  none  which  showed 
greater  treachery.  There  was  no  limit  to  their  wickedness 
but  their  fear.  To  these  infamies  had  they  descended  that 
they  might  preserve  slavery.  They  seemed  to  have  the  idea 
that  slavery  was  their  salvation,  their  heaven  and  their  God. 
It  ran  through  all  their  thought,  it  was  present  when  they 
rose  and  when  they  lay  down.  It  colored  and  distorted  every 
other  object.  It  was  in  the  marrow  of  their  bones,  in  the 
breath  of  their  nostrils.  They  must  get  rid  of  it  or  there 
was  a  power  that  would  do  it  for  them.  No  matter  how 
stern  the  process,  or  how  terribly  it  may  tear  them,  it  must 
be  done.  They  had  read  of  the  Egyptian  embalmers,  how 
they  got  the  brains  out  of  their  subjects  by  introducing  a 
wire  through  the  nostrils,  and  of  the  doses  of  aloes.  The 
people  of  the  North  and  the  civilization  of  the  age  will  tear 
slavery  from  them  even  if  it  require  their  dying  agonies. 

He  had  come  among  them  as  their  best  friend.  He  was 
anxious  they  should  have  their  rights  under  the  Constitution. 
If  they  had  been  contented  to  enjoy  them,  he  would  have 
fought  on  their  side  to  the  best  of  his  ability.  He  respected 
their  property,  he  returned  their  slaves,  he  did  everything 
they  could  demand.  They  had  plotted  against  him,  they  had 
deceived  him  and  ridiculed  him,  both  he  and  his  officers  had 
been  subjects  for  their  amusement ;  they  had  murdered  and 
poisoned  his  men ;  they  would  be  glad  of  his  skull  for  a 
drinking  cup.  Why  was  this  ?  For  no  reason  except  that  he 
had  been  in  favor  of  the  Union  as  our  fathers  made  it.  Now 
they  had  come  to  ask  more  favors.  He  begged  to  be  excused. 

When  the  time  of  General  Granger's  regiment  expired 


MARCHING   OX.  .  127 

they  re-enlisted  and  went  home  on  a  furlough.  There  were 
wagons  at  the  railroad  to  take  the  sick  and  their  baggage  to 
the  village,  where  many  of  them  and  the  General  lived,  and 
where  the  people  had  a  grand  dinner  prepared  for  them. 
They  came  into  the  village  in  marching  order.  There  were 
some  sad  vacancies.  The  people  marked  their  tanned  faces 
and  the  older  look  of  the  young  men.  They  were  just  from 
Vicksburg.  Then  they  began  to  sing ;  and  as  they  passed 
with  their  heavy  tread,  people  wondered  and  were  awe-struck 
with  the  chorus  of  the  song.  It  was  about  somebody's  soul 
that  was  marching  on. 


THE  WAY  AND  THE  WILL. 

LEMUEL  MERBICK  lived  in  Wisconsin.  His  farm  was  on 
the  border  of  a  lake  with  gravel  shores.  He  was  twenty- 
six  years  old  and  unmarried.  He  was  from  the  State  of  New 
York,  where,  by  teaching  school  and  saving  his  money  he 
made  enough  to  come  west  and  buy  and  improve  a  farm. 
His  father  also  came  and  bought  a  farm  adjoining,  and 
Lemuel  lived  in  the  family.  On  his  farm  he  built  a  nice 
house,  in  which  a  tenant  lived,  and  a  very  large  barn  which 
every  year  he  filled  with  hay  and  grain.  He  kept  much 
stock.  In  a  valley  of  about  ten  acres,  looking  south  upon 
the  lake,  he  planted  an  orchard.  The  hills  and  the  waters 
afforded  protection,  and  the  trees  were  beginning  to  bear. 

Across  the  lake,  scarcely  half  a  mile  distant,  but  a  mile 
and  a  half  around,  is  the  village  of  Lake  View.  Here  is  the 
outlet,  and  on  it  stands  a  grist  mill,  and  several  kinds  of 
machine  works ;  there  is  a  nice  meeting-house  with  a  bell  in 
it,  a  flourishing  seminary,  several  stores ;  in  short,  Lake  View 
is  quite  a  town.  The  whole  region  is  celebrated  for  raising 
a  superior  kind  of  wheat  known  as  the  Milwaukie  Club. 

People  wondered  why  Lemuel  did  not  marry.  They  sup- 
posed, of  course,  that  he  built  the  house  to  put  a  wife  in  it ; 
but  though  he  was  attentive  enough  to  the  girls,  he  did  not 
propose.  He  was  too  bashful  to  do  so,  and,  besides,  he  was 
particular.  Still,  had  one  of  two  girls  whom  he  liked  most 
known  this  and  made  some  advances,  she  would  have  got 
him.  She  gave  him  up  and  married  somebody  else. 

When  the  war  broke  out  Lemuel  said  he  would  go,  and 
(128) 


THE  WAY  AND  THE  WILL.  129 

he  undertook  to  raise  a  company.  This  he  found  difficult 
because  he  was  not  popular  with  that  class  which  first  vol- 
unteers, and  the  friends  of  the  girls  who  felt  slighted  threw 
obstacles  in  his  way.  Everybody  said  he  would  fail.  "Well, 
he  would  go  as  a  private,  but  he  believed  he  could  raise  a 
company.  He  had  got  about  twenty  mechanics ;  it  seemed 
as  if  he  could  not  get  another  one.  Several  good  sort  of 
men  told  him  that  if  he  would  furnish  liquor  he  would  suc- 
ceed. This  he  would  not  do,  nor  would  he  have  men  who 
loved  whiskey,  at  least,  who  would  get  drunk.  Then  he 
went  out  among  the  best  farmers,  whose  boys,  as  yet,  had 
not  thought  of  going,  and  talked  with  them.  The  old  folks 
seeing  how  determined  Lemuel  was  to  have  sober  men, 
thought  he  would  make  a  good  officer,  and  told  the  boys 
that  if  they  ever  intended  to  go,  this  was  their  time.  Seve- 
ral out  of  the  first  families  volunteered ;  in  a  few  days  he 
had  a  full  company,  and  they  started  for  the  wars.  t 

The  trouble  with  Lemuel  was  he  did  not  talk  enough. 
He  scarcely  ever  spoke,  except  when  he  had  something  im- 
portant to  say.  But  he  was  always, ready  to  listen — he  was 
a  listening  man ;  even  when  no  one  was  talking,  he  seemed 
to  listen.  He  succeeded  because  he  could  smile.  He  seemed 
to  be  glad  to  see  everybody ;  for  everybody  he  had  a  smile. 
Such  had  been  his  careful  habits  of  life  that  whatever  he  had 
in  charge  he  watched  as  a  mother  watches  her  child.  When 
his  men  saw  this,  they  got  through  the  crust  of  the  man,  and 
they  liked  him.  They  believed  he  was  a  model  captain,  and 
he  was.  In  one  sense  the  captain  is  the  highest  officer  in 
the  army.  He  is  the  same  as  the  father  to  his  children.  The 
company  is  a  family.  The  officers  of  higher  grade  corres- 
pond to  judges  and  legislators.  Every  soldier  looks  to  his 
captain;  there  is  no  one  else  to  whom  he  can  look.  His 
regiment  went  to  Cairo,  and  afterwards  to  Paducah.  Then 
he  was  sent  to  Cairo  on  detached  duty.  While  attending  to 
it,  a  move  was  made  on  Belmont,  and  he  asked  and  obtained 
leave  to  go  along.  He  wanted  to  see  what  a  fight  was. 
There  were  several  other  similar  volunteers  ;  among  them 


130  LIFE   IN   THE   WEST. 

there  was  the  editor  of  the  Carbon  dale  Times.  Each  had  a 
musket. 

The  battle  of  Belmont  was  fought  on  the  Yth  of  Xovem- 
her,  1861.  The  place  is  nearly  opposite  Columbus,  twenty 
miles  below  Cairo,  and  has  only  a  few  hovels.  Our  troops 
landed  a  mile  or  so  above,  and  then  marched  down.  Before 
they  could  reach  the  rebels,  they  had  to  work  their  way 
through  a  large  mass  of  fallen  timber,  in  which  they  lay 
shooting  at  ns.  Our  boys  spread  out,  and  worked  their 
way  through,  killing  every  one  that  did  not  run.  On  coming 
to  their  encampment  we  rushed  upon  them,  they  fled  into 
the  woods,  or  jumped  over  the  bank,  where  some  were 
drowned  and  many  were  taken  prisoners.  Their  tents, 
stores,  and  the  like  were  burned,  but  we  lingered  too  long, 
for,  before  we  were  aware,  they  sent  over  reinforcements,  at- 
tacked us  fiercely,  and  we  left  on  the  double-quick.  Things 
seemed  not  well  managed.  They  followed  us  to  our  boats 
and  we  got  aboard  as  quickly  as  we  could.  General  Grant, 
in  particular,  led  his  horse  down  the  staging  in  a  lively  man- 
ner. Then  they  fired  qn  the  boats ;  they  were  going  to 
shoot  every  pilot,  every  engineer,  anybody  in  sight,  and  do 
great  things.  The  bank  where  they  crowded  was  only  about 
fifty  feet  from  the  boats,  and  only  one  thing  prevented  them 
from  doing  as  they  proposed.  We  had  a  gunboat  there.  It 
opened  on  them.  A  matter  of  fifty  or  sixty  staid,  the  rest 
thought  they  would  go. 

Next  day  was  a  flag-of-truce ;  we  buried  our  dead  and 
brought  away  a  few  wounded,  the  rest  had  been  taken  to 
Columbus.  At  that  time  they  claimed  a  great  victory.  It 
is  singular  they  have  not  said  much  about  it  since.  After- 
wards, when  we  got  possession  of  Memphis,  we  found  out 
for  a  certainty  that  they  lost  in  killed  not  far  from  five  hun- 
dred. Our  loss  at  the  time  was  stated  at  eighty-five  killed. 
There  is  little  doubt  but  it  reached  nearly  two  hundred.  On 
both  sides  there  was  much  hushing  up.  Now,  neither  boasts. 
It  is  certain  that  the  way  our  men  drove  them  out  of  the 
fallen  timber  was  gallantly  done,  and  they  have  performed 


THE  WAY  AND  THE  WILL.  131 

things  since  more  heroic.  In  this  work,  Colonel  Logan  was 
conspicuous,  so  were  Colonels  Fonk,  Dougherty,  Buford,  and 
others.  The  affair  was  badly  planned,  for  at  the  same  time 
we  had  3,000  men  fifty  miles  back  in  the  country.  But  it 
was  one  of  the  first  battles  in  the  west.  It  had  been  thrown 
up  to  us  that  we  could  not  fight.  It  never  has  been  since 
the  battle  of  Belmont. 

"When  they  commenced  driving  us  out,  they  cut  us  partly 
in  two,  and  Colonel  Buford,  with  his  regiment,  was  on  the 
southern  side.  He  could  not  get  to  the  boats.  He  started 
back  from  the  river,  driving  still  farther  the  stragglers,  who 
at  first  had  fled.  Taking  a  wide  circuit,  he  was  able  by  the 
next  morning  to  reach  the  river,  some  ten  miles  below 
Cairo,  where  he  was  taken  on  board  our  boats.  Still,  seve- 
ral days  passed  before  all  got  in ;  a  party  of  seventeen  came 
to  Bird's  Point,  which  is  on  the  Missouri  shore,  opposite 
Cairo,  about  a  week  afterwards. 

During  the  last  retreat  Captain  Merrick  was  shot  in  the 
arm  and  leg,  and  he  was  thrown  among  Colonel  Buford' s 
men.  There  were  no  horses,  and  he  had  to  walk.  This  was 
very  painful,  and  after  going  quite  a  distance,  he  could  pro- 
ceed no  further  and  stopped.  The  men  were  worn  out  with 
the  heat  and  the  fight,  they  could  not  well  carry  him,  no 
one  knew  him,  and  he  sat  under  a  tree  fixing  his  wounds, 
while  they  went  by.  Several  humane,  thoughtful  men  stop- 
ped to  consider  his  case ;  he  told  them  he  could  not  walk,  in 
fact  he  could  do  nothing  just  then  but  attend  to  his  wounds, 
for  there  was  not  a  surgeon  with  them ;  they  lingered  and 
pitied,  then  bade  him  good-bye. 

He  did  not  know  how  badly  he  was  hurt.  Much  blood 
had  run,  but  he  had  stopped  it ;  then  his  leg  flowed  again. 
Tearing  off  another  piece  of  cloth  very  quickly  he  stopped 
the  bullet-holes,  for  they  went  clean  through,  then  loading 
his  gun  he  looked  around. 

Every  thing  had  become  still  and  the  squirrels  had  begun 
to  run.  The  sun  was  about  two  hours  high.  He  thought 
he  might  have  strength,  by  walking  slowly,  to  reach  some 


132  LIFE  IN  THE  WEST. 

house.  He  determined  to  keep  his  musket,  although  he  had 
a  revolver,  for  he  knew  what  kind  of  a  country  it  was,  and 
he  meant  to  fight  till  he  should  die,  rather  than  give  up  to 
guerrillas.  It  was  not  difficult  to  follow  the  regiment ;  by 
sun  down  he  reached  a  path,  and  thinking  he  would  be  lost 
in  the  dark,  or  be  picked  up  by  those  looking  after  strag- 
glers, he  turned  into  the  path.  Still  he  had  his  fears.  He 
knew  that  many  in  such  a  wild  place  would  be  glad  of  the 
chance  to  kill  him.  It  was  important  for  him  to  know 
whether  the  house  he  should  come  to  would  be  a  slaveholder's. 
In  a  little  time  he  came  to  a  sheet  of  water,  which  was  partly 
a  cypress  swamp  and  partly  a  bayou,  and  across  was  a  large 
plantation,  and  a  brick  house  with  many  small  dwellings 
near  by.  He  knew  there  were  slaves  there.  The  water  was 
not  very  wide  and  there  was  a  rude  bridge  made  by  planks 
laid  on  benches.  He  could  see  a  little  path  running  down  to 
the  water,  he  went  thither  and  found  a  cabin  where  they  had 
been  making  cypress  shingles.  There  were  a  plenty  of  shav- 
ings, he  went  in,  made  him  a  bed,  and  lying  down  on  his 
back  began  to  think.  He  fell  asleep. 

In  the  morning  he  was  awakened  by  a  gun  going  off.  The 
sun  was  shining.  He  saw  nobody.  The  brick  house  was  in 
sight.  Birds  were  singing.  On  the  water  were  many  wild 
ducks  and  geese;  some  one  seemed  to  be  shooting  them. 
These  inland  waters  are  great  places  for  sportsmen.  Some- 
times they  go  thither  from  St.  Louis.  He  needed  breakfast 
as  much  as  anything,  unless  it  was  a  surgeon  to  look  at  his 
wounds.  For  fear  some  one  might  want  to  go  to  work,  he 
got  up,  went  out,  and  sat  down  in  some  tall  rush  grass,  near 
the  water,  and  where  he  could  see  the  house.  After  a  little, 
six  men  came  along  the  path  and  crossed  over  to  the  house. 
They  had  guns,  and  blankets  and  overcoats  piled  up.  While 
thinking  what  was  best  to  do,  he  tried  to  dress  his  wounds. 
The  blood  had  so  dried  that  he  could  not  get  off  the  rags 
unless  he  tore  them  away.  He  concluded  he  had  best  follow 
the  regiment  and  run  the  risk  of  meeting  rebels.  The  men 
seemed  to  be  eating  breakfast,  for  he  could  hear  the  dishes 


THE   WAY  AND   THE  WILL.  133 

rattle.  Then  there  was  much  fast  talking  and  loud  laughter. 
After  that  they  went  away.  Two  came  back,  others  went 
down  the  road.  He  saw  the  negroes  going  to  work,  some 
were  driving  cattle.  There  were  many  children  about,  black 
and  white. 

After  a  while  a  girl,  woman  grown,  brought  a  big  spin- 
ning-wheel out  into  the  porch  and  went  to  spinning,  and  as 
she  spun  she  sang.  Her  voice  was  pleasant,  but  she  did  not 
sing  the  old  tunes  correctly.  He  knew  she  was  a  girl  be- 
cause she  stepped  spry,  and  once  or  twice  fixed  up  her  hair 
with  attention.  He  waved  his  handkerchief  a  while,  hoping 
to  catch  her  eye,  but  he  stopped  suddenly  on  thinking 
a  man  might  see  him,  or  that  she  might  call  one.  As  every 
thing  had  been  quiet  for  some  time,  he  thought  he  would 
try  to  get  away.  He  found  his  leg  very  stiff,  still  he  could 
walk,  and  he  got  into  the  path  leading  to  the  track  made 
by  the  regiment.  He  was  keeping  a  sharp  look-out,  and  at 
a  distance  he  saw  the  men  with  the  guns  on  their  shoulders. 
He  got  into  some  pawpaw  bushes  and  lay  down.  He  felt 
doubtful  about  being  able  to  walk  far.  The  men  went  by. 
They  had  overcoats  and  blankets  piled  on  their  backs.  One 
carried  in  his  hand  something  about  the  size  of  a  large  wa- 
termelon in  a  cloth  stained  with  blood,  and  blood  dropped 
upon  the  ground.  They  were  rough  looking  fellows.  He 
thought  they  would  have  killed  him  had  they  seen  him.  I 
have  no  doubt  but  they  would  have  done  so.  I  well  know 
how  the  captain  felt;  for  at  this  time  I  was  out  alone  in 
similar  woods,  and  know  all  about  the  condition  of  things. 

For,  at  that  time,  it  was  thought  a  great  thing  to  show 
Yankee  bones.  From  Northern  Virginia  pieces  of  skulls 
and  bones  were  sent  in  letters  all  through  the  South.  Skele- 
tons of  our  soldiers  at  that  very  time,  as  well  as  afterwards, 
were  labelled  and  shown  in  shop  windows  in  Mobile  and 
New  Orleans.  The  distance  from  modern  civilization  to 
barbarism  is  not  so  far  as  some  may  suppose.  The  region 
beyond  barbarism  is  cannibalism.  That  is  not  far  off  either. 
We  need  not  be  shocked  to  learn  the  truth.  We  must  take 


134  LIFE  IN  THE   WEST. 

men  and  society  as  they  are.  Northern  men,  when  they  be- 
came slaveholders,  were  almost  the  same  as  Southern  men.  It 
is  supposed  they  differed  only  in  being  worse.  It  was  not  long 
before  this  business  was  stopped.  In  most  of  the  cases  the 
ladies  who  had  been  receiving  these  Yankee  relics  learned 
that  the  givers  had  fallen  by  the  Yankee  bullets.  Thousands 
of  loved  young  men  in  families,  in  towns  and  cities  sunk 
before  Yankee  musketry  and  cannon,  and  never  would  their 
friends  see  them  again.  They  were  buried  in  shallow  graves. 
Some  lay  where  they  fell  in  the  fight  and  in  the  flight. 
Birds  found  materials  for  their  nests.  We  are  often  taught 
humanity  in  a  roundabout,  but  most  terrible  manner. 

After  Captain  Merrick  had  seen  the  men  go  across  and 
enter  the  house  he  thought  he  would  travel  on,  and  he  was 
getting  out  of  the  pawpaws,  when  he  saw  the  girl  coming 
over  the  bridge  with  a  bucket  on  her  arm.  He  went  to  the 
side  of  the  path  and  sat  on  a  log.  He  would  speak  to  her. 
She  seemed  in  a  hurry,  and  she  had  a  very  sad  look.  When 
she  saw  him,  she  stopped  short  and  ran  back  a  little.  He 
was  a  ghastly  sight.  His  clothes  were  very  bloody,  his 
coat  and  pantaloons  had  been  cut  open,  and  the  bandages 
were  plainly  seen.  He  was  pale  as  a  cloth,  and  yet  showed 
the  smoke  of  battle.  His  beard  seemed  too  heavy  for  his 
face.  She  was  pretty  and  fresh-looking,  about  eighteen. 
She  had  on  old  shoes,  but  no  stockings.  Her  dress  was  of 
stripped  domestic  cotton,  the  stripes  running  around. 

He  asked  her  if  she  could  not  help  a  poor  wounded  man. 
Ah !  how  eame  he  this  way  ?  Was  he  not  a  Union  soldier  ? 
Yes,  he  was  one ;  if  he  could  not  get  help  soon  he  must  die. 
He  had  been  without  food  since  the  morning  before.  Could 
she  not  help  him  ?  Perhaps  she  might  get  him  something 
to  eat.  She  did  not  know  what  else  she  could  do ;  but  he 
had  better  go  into  the  bushes,  he  would  be  seen.  He  didn't 
know  what  was  going  on — he  couldn't  guess.  He  must 
keep  out  of  sight.  They  were  coming  and  going  all  the 
time.  She  was  going  to  a  field  through  the  woods  to  get 
garden  truck.  She  would  be  back  soon.  He  went  into  the 
bushes,  and  she  went  on  her  way  fast. 


THE  WAY  AND  THE  WILL.  135 

When  she  came  back,  she  had  cucumbers  and  tomatoes. 
Father  had  bought  a  crop,  and  the  garden  of  a  man  who 
wanted  to  go  away.  He  might  have  some  of  them  to  eat. 
Could  he  not  get  to  his  friends  in  the  Union  Army  ?  He 
was  afraid  he  could  not  walk.  If  she  could  send  word  any- 
way, they  would  come.  She  said  she  could  not  go  herself, 
there  were  none  but  Confederates  about.  The  captain  was 
busy  eating  the  tomatoes.  Could  she  not  bring  him  some- 
thing else  ?  he  would  pay  her  well.  He  wanted  some  water 
to  drink,  and  some  cloths  to  fix  his  wounds.  She  said  she 
would  come  again  about  sundown.  She  would  be  going  to 
the  field  then,  and  would  bring  him  some  victuals.  But  he 
must  not  show  himself.  The  Northern  people  were  very 
wicked  to  be  making  war  on  them,  that  she  knew,  and  they 
ought  to  stay  at  home  and  let  them  alone ;  still,  she  would 
not  let  him  suffer.  He  must  get  away.  She  knew  of  a 
Union  man  about  three  miles  off,  and  she  would  try  and 
send  him  word.  Everybody  else  was  for  the  South. 

The  planter  was  a  saving,  hard  working  man.  He  had 
made  almost  all  his  property  himself.  His  wife  had  two 
negroes  to  start  with ;  he  had  run  in  debt  for  more ;  these 
paid  for  themselves  and  helped  buy  others.  In  all,  he  had 
twenty-five.  He  worked  with  them.  He  could  read  and 
write,  but  his  knowledge  was  limited.  His  children  were 
about  the  same  that  he  was.  At  first,  he  had  no  doubt  but 
the  South  would  win.  Latterly,  the  large  army  gathering 
at  Cairo,  and  which  was  magnified,  had  made  him  doubt  a 
little.  He  and  others  of  the  common  people  had  thought 
the  best  policy  was  to  kill  every  soldier  Avho  should  come 
South.  That  would  teach  them  a  lesson.  They  knew  little 
of  the  geography  and  population  of  the  North.  Their 
leaders  were  glad  that  they  did  not.  The  battle  of  Belmont 
showed  that  the  North  had  fighting  men.  It  might  not  be 
so  easv  to  kill  them  all.  Why,  their  own  men  got  killed, 
and  it  was  whispered  that  these  were  many. 

Kate  was  his  oldest  daughter.  She  could  read,  write  and 
cypher  a  little.  She  knew  more  about  spinning  and  weaving. 


136  LIFE   IN  THE  WEST. 

She  could  plan  and  put  a  piece  in  the  loom  as  well  as 
her  mother.  A  plenty  of  young  men  were  after  her ;  but 
she  had  agreed  to  have  a  lieutenant  in  the  rebel  army,  whose 
father  had  a  lai'ge  plantation  opposite  Wolf  Island. 

About  sundown  she  brought  Captain  Merrick  a  bottle  of 
milk  and  some  meat  and  bread.  The  soldiers  had  eaten  up 
all  the  butter,  but  they  would  churn  in  the  morning.  She 
had  a  two-quart  tin  pail,  she  would  bring  it  back  full  of 
water.  There  was  a  good  well  where  she  was  going.  And 
here  were  some  cloths.  Could  he  put  them  on  ?  He  guessed 
so.  Had  she  any  pins  ?  Yes,  she  had  brought  half  a  row. 

It  was  growing  dusk  when  she  came  back.  He  had  eaten, 
and  was  working  at  the  wound  on  his  leg.  He  could  not 
get  the  cloth  off  the  one  on  his  arm,  it  stuck  so  tight.  He 
would  have  to  soak  it  till  morning.  The  ball  must  be  in, 
it  hurt  badly.  The  other  ball  was  out.  He  wanted  to  get 
the  bandage  on  tighter.  It  was  in  a  bad  way,  he  had  stuffed 
in  some  cloth  to  keep  it  from  bleeding.  Could  she  contrive 
any  way,  to  send  word  to  Cairo  ?  Surely  enough  he  must 
get  away.  She  would  try.  Would  she  help  wind  the  band- 
age around,  and  then  pin  it  ?  He  did  not  like  to  ask  her,  but 
he  would  pay  her  well.  He  had  sisters  at  home  who  would 
be  glad  to  help  him.  Let  her  think  while  doing  it  that  she 
was  his  brother.  She  did  the  best  she  could ;  her  hands 
trembled.  If  the  wound  had  been  below  the  knee  she 
would  not  have  minded  so  much.  But  she  had  courage  in 
her  heart.  He  thanked  her  very  much,  asked  her  name,  and 
told  his. 

While  she  was  here,  a  young  man  by  the  name  of  Scott, 
who  had  lived  in  the  Settlement,  and  who  wanted  to  get  her, 
came  along,  and  hearing  the  talking  peeped  in  and  saw  some- 
thing ;  then  he  stepped  back  and  watched  till  she  left.  Then 
he  went  and  looked  in  again,  and  saw  the  captain  lying 
down,  and  he  thought  he  saw  a  musket.  As  he  was  not  a 
soldier,  and  as  he  had  no  gun,  he  thought  he  would  keep 
away  from  muskets.  By  and  by  he  saw  Kate  slip  back, 
carrying  a  bundle,  and  it  looked  like  bed-clothes.  Ah,  ha ! 


THE  WAY  AND  THE  WILL.  137 

he  thought,  here  were  fine  doings.  He  came  near  enough 
to  hear  the  captain  say  if  she  ever  wanted  anything,  or  ever 
got  in  trouble,  she  should  come  to  him  or  write  to  him,  and  he 
would  do  anything  he  could.  There  was  nothing  he  would 
not  be  willing  to  do  to  pay  for  her  kindness.  David  almost 
knew  it  was  loving-kindness,  as  the  hymn  says.  But  who 
could  the  fellow  be  ?  She  soon  went  back.  Then  he  waited 
long.  The  captain  did  not  stir.  Surely  he  had  gone  to 
sleep.  He  would  go  and  get  some  friends  of  his  and  see 
about  this  business. 

Kate  had  sent  a  negro  boy  whom  she  thought  she  could  trust 
to  tell  the  Union  man  to  come  to  her  as  soon  as  he  could, 
and  to  bring  two  horses.  Pie  could  do  some  good.  By  ten 
o'clock  the  Union  man  came,  rather  suspicious,  but  he  met 
Kate,  and  she  told  him  what  it  was.  The  captain  heard 
them  coming.  She  had  to  go  to  him  first.  With  difficulty 
they  got  him  on  the  horse.  When  the  negro  found  out  it 
was  a  Union  officer  he  was  highly  pleased,  and  he  lifted  with 
all  his  might.  It  is  no  small  job  to  get  a  man  on  a  horse 
by  main  strength. 

The  Union  men  of  this  region  know  all  the  paths  as 
well  as  the  Indians  used  to.  They  almost  know  the  trees. 
They  travel  more  by  night  than  by  day.  It  was  over 
fifteen  miles  to  Bird's  Point.  When  half  way,  they  came  to 
another  Union  man,  waked  him  up  and  got  his  buggy.  He 
went  along  too,  and  all  were  well  armed.  It  cost  something 
to  be  a  Union  man  in  many  places.  A  little  after  sunrise 
they  went  through  our  lines,  for  we  had  quite  a  force  there. 
The  ferry-boat  soon  went  over,  and  in  a  short  time  the  cap- 
tain was  in  the  brick  hospital. 

On  dressing  his  wounds,  the  bullet  was  taken  out  of  his 
arm.  It  had  stopped  against  a  bone.  But  the  wound  in  his 
leg  was  highly  inflamed.  The  surgeon  said  that  in  one  day 
more  it  would  have  been  too  late.  Quite  a  crowd  came 
around  to  look  at  it,  saying,  "  Oh,  dear."  However,  there  was 
time,  and  he  would  soon  be  up  again.  The  captain  had  the 
ball,  that  came  out  of  his  arm,  put  in  the  chair  by  him,  and 


138  LIFE  IN  THE  WEST. 

he  kept  looking  at  it.  Afterwards  he  sent  it  home  to  his 
mother.  She  keeps  it  iu  the  bureau-drawer,  and  shows  it  to 
folks. 

In  about  a  month  the  captain  was  out  and  doing  a  little. 
He  was  a  careful  hand  at  his  business,  and  he  was  in  re- 
quest. One  day  a  young  man  came  to  him  and  told  him 
that  a  lady  at  the  St.  Charles  wanted  to  see  him.  Wonder- 
ing who  it  could  be,  and  whether  it  might  not  be  his  mother 
or  sister,  he  went  up  stairs  into  the  parlor  and  was  sur- 
prised to  see  Kate.  Well,  now,  if  this  wasn't  the  greatest 
pleasure  he  ever  had  in  his  life,  and  he  shook  hands  with 
her  so  warmly  that  she  thought  he  wanted  to  kiss  her.  If 
he  had  kissed,  she  would  have  blushed.  Instead  of  being 
a  sad  sight,  he  was  a  healthy  and  well-dressed  officer.  She 
must  tell  him  how  she  got  along,  and  if  anybody  ever  found 
out  that  she  helped  him. 

Yes,  it  was  all  found  out,  and  she  was  well-nigh  ruined. 
He  couldn't  think  what  a  dreadful  time  she  had.  David 
Scott  found  it  out ;  he  had  got  the  quilts,  and  he  had  made 
up  an  awful  story.  She  would  not  tell  what.  At  last  she 
had  to  tell  her  folks  how  it  was.  This  made  things  worse, 
even  if  it  was  true,  which  some  doubted.  But  if  it  was 
true,  why  did  she  not  let  him  die  ?  They  would  have  knocked 
him  down  with  a  club  and  let  the  hogs  eat  him.  Some 
would  have  been  glad  to  get  his  bones;  one  wanted  his 
skull.  Worse  than  this,  and  she  told  it,  the  lieutenant  she 
was  going  to  have,  got  jealous  and  wrote  her  a  letter  that  he 
would  have  nothing  to  do  with  her.  Her  parents  looked 
over  it,  but  she  had  done  very  wrong.  Through  the  whole 
Settlement  an  outcry  was  raised;  and  when  she  went  to 
meeting  some  smiled,  some  whispered,  and  few  spoke  to  her. 
She  cried  herself  almost  to  death.  At  last,  having  no  peace, 
she  determined  to  leave.  He  had  parents  ;  could  she  not  go 
and  live  with  them  ?  She  would  be  no  trouble.  She  be- 
lieved they  would  treat  her  well. 

Certainly  she  could.  It  would  be  a  good  place.  He 
would  see  that  she  had  everything  she  needed.  It  was  not 


THE   WAY  ASD   THE  WILL.  139 

far,  was  it  ?  and  could  he  not  take  her  thither  ?  Oh,  but  it. 
was  far,  and  he  could  not  go,  but  she  would  travel  safely 
It  would  take  two  days  and  two  nights.  She  could  sleep. 
Did  she  ever  ride  on  the  cars  ?  No.  She  would  like  it  then. 

When  the  lieutenant  cast  her  off,  and  when  every  one 
turned  against  her,  she  remembered  that  she  had  shown  pity, 
and  by  night  and  by  day,  the  figure  of  the  fainting  and 
bloody  captain  was  before  her  eyes.  Where  she  had  pitied 
and  given  comfort,  she  believed  pity  and  comfort  were  to  be 
found.  She  could  not  understand  why  others  so  bitterly 
should  hate  a  man  nearly  dead.  She  was  shocked  that 
they  should  be  so  cruel  and  ferocious  towards  one  so  gentle 
and  weak.  She  would  go  and  see  if  she  could  not  find  the 
bread  she  had  cast  upon  the  waters. 

Captain  Merrick  partly  saw  how  this  was,  and  he  con- 
versed with  her  long  to  see  if  he  could  find  out  more.  He 
saw  that  she  had  good  sense,  he  liked  her  looks,  and  at  last 
he  had  the  vanity,  which  is  common  in  men,  to  suppose  that 
in  some  degree  she  was  in  love  with  him.  If  this  was  so, 
Kate  did  not  know  it ;  however,  like  most  women,  she  might 
be  willing  to  be  loved. 

All  the  time,  slavery  is  war.  There  is  no  hour  of  the  day 
or  night  in  which  the  slaveholder  is  not  in  arms.  When  the 
war  commenced,  he  had  no  idea  of  there  being  rules  of  war, 
or  that  his  enemy  was  not  to  be  killed  whenever  he  could 
get  a  shot  at  him.  Even  the  leaders  growled  that  there 
must  be  flags  of  truce.  It  was  not  long  after  this  that  some 
ten  or  fifteen  of  our  cavalry  pickets,  a  few  miles  from  Bird's 
Point,  were  shot  dead  on  their  horses  in  one  night.  The 
historic  pen  is  not  permitted  to  say  much  more,  it  only  adds 
that  you  must  imagine  all  jou  can.  General  Grant  waked 
up  from  his  thinking,  arid  taking  the  cigar  from  his  mouth, 
told  the  clerk  to  write.  The  result  was  they  learned  some 
of  the  usages  if  not  the  rules  of  Avar. 

At  last  Captain  Merrick  told  Kate  that  she  had  run  a  great 
risk  in  leaving  her  parents  to  seek  strangers.  But  she  had 
not  mistaken.  He  would  care  for  her  as  if  she  were  the  apple 


140  LIFE  IN  THE  WEST. 

of  his  eye.  Her  confidence  in  him  deserved  this.  She  should 
go  and  live  with  his  parents.  There  were  many  advantages 
there  for  young  people.  Whatever  other  young  ladies  had 
learned  and  become,  she  could  learn  and  become.  She  should 
go  to  school.  Yes,  she  knew  she  would  please  his  folks. 
She  knew  how  to  work,  she  could  pay  her  way.  Truly 
enough  she  could  do  that.  But  he  was  going  to  say  some- 
thing else.  He  wanted  her  to  go  to  school  and  become  ac- 
complished, like  other  young  ladies  in  his  country.  She 
would  soon  know  what  this  meant.  He  wanted  her  to  un- 
derstand better  the  meaning  of  words ;  she  pronounced  as 
she  had  been  taught — was  she  willing  to  learn  different? 
Oh,  yes,  if  he  wished  her  to.  He  had  not  time  to  talk  long, 
the  cars  would  come  early  in  the  morning,  he  would  get  her 
a  ticket,  and  write  letters  and  directions  so  that  she  would 
go  safely  and  be  well  received.  Then  he  wanted  to  say  this,  if 
she  would  go  to  school  and  learn  to  be  like  the  other  young 
ladies,  he  would  make  her  his  wife. 

She  blushed  all  over,  and  scarcely  could  say  she  had  not 
thought  of  such  a  thing — she  would  not  think  of  it — but 
what  he  wanted  her  to  do,  she  would  do. 

Some  one  came  to  the  door.  He  said  he  would  be  along 
soon.  Then  he  took  her  by  the  hand  and  said  that  in  the 
place  she  was  going  to  she  would  have  every  opportunity  to 
become  a  lady.  He  was  providing  the  Way,  she  must  pro- 
vide the  Will.  What  helps  folks  most  in  this  world  is,  The 
Way  and  the  Will. 

There  was  quite  a  sensation  when  Kate  arrived  at  the  far- 
off  home.  The  letter  she  brought  showed  who  she  was,  what 
she  had  done,  and  why  she  came.  She  was  received  as  a  sister. 
It  was  the  first  time  any  of  the  family  had  seen  a  native  of 
the  South,  and  they  wondered  at  her  strange  words  and  ways. 
But  soon  she  was  seen  not  to  differ  from  other  human  beings. 

Kate  became  accustomed  to  her  new  home,  and  she  liked 
it.  She  wondered  at  the  abundance  of  many  articles  of  food 
which  in  her  country  were  considered  luxuries.  She  took  so 
much  pains  to  do  as  she  saw  others  do,  that  she  had  credit 


THE  WAY  AND  THE  WILL.  141 

for  having  the  Will.  Multitudes  of  Southern  women  in  those 
days,  fled  from  burning  or  ruined  homes,  and  saw  no  chance 
but  to  adopt  new  habits  and  words.  It  came  hard,  but  it 
was  not  impossible,  it  grew  easier  every  day.  Others  would 
not  learn. 

Kate  went  to  the  Lake  View  Seminary.  New  garments 
had  been  made  for  her,  and  she  wore  them  well.  When  she 
entered  the  room  an  awful  feeling  came  over  her,  but  she  was 
encouraged  by  repeating,  The  Way  and  the  Will.  Every 
where,  things  new  and  strange  grew  familiar  and  old. 

The  teacher  was  like  many  in  those  days.  She  was  famil- 
iar with  every  stage  of  mental  progress.  She  taught  by  the 
shortest  and  best  methods.  She  knew  how  to  inculcate  and 
how  to  bring  out.  She  studied  and  discovered  what  means 
and  reasoning  induce  each  to  strive  to  excel.  Kate  found 
difiiculties.  The  very  first  thing  the  teacher  did  was  to  bring 
illustrations  to  show  how  difficulties  are  overcome.  And 
then  she  showed  her,  what  it  is  so  important  to  know,  and  is 
often  seen  too  late,  that  learning  comes  not  by  lofty  flights, 
but  by  weak  and  humble  steps,  and  that  each  step  becomes 
a  part  of  the  mind  itself. 

Kate  was  old  enough,  and  her  will  was  strong  enough,  to 
see  this,  and  she  found  no  obstacle  which  she  did  not  over- 
come. When  school  was  out  she  walked  home,  or,  if  she 
liked,  she  came  and  returned  in  a  skiff.  She  assisted  the  fam- 
ily in  their  household  affairs  and  was  of  service. 

There  is  no  greater  mistake  than  the  one  so  generally  made, 
that  labor  unfits  for  study,  or  that  to  study  with  profit,  one 
must  do  nothing  else.  The  truth  is,  the  hours  in  which  we 
study  with  good  results  are  limited.  When  the  limit  is 
reached  our  efforts  are  weak,  and  our  ideas  confused.  The 
mind  is  like  a  spring  coil,  if  always  oppressed  with  weights 
it  loses  its  strength.  Elasticity  returns  only  when  the 
weights  are  removed.  The  Creator  has  decreed  that  the 
most  wholesome  relaxation  is  to  be  found  in  useful  labor. 

Her  parents  wondered  what  had  become  of  her.  They 
traced  her  to  our  lines,  but  could  learn  no  more.  She  must 


142  LIFE    IX    THE   WEST. 

be  ruined  and  lost.  After  some  months  a  letter  came.  Where 
was  Wisconsin?  Was  it  ten,  twenty,  or  so  much  as  fifty 
miles  off?  Was  it  in  Missouri  or  Illinois?  She  forgot  to 
write  that.  She  says  she  is  among  Yankees,  that  they  treat 
her  well,  and  that  she  is  going  to  school.  It  was  wondered 
who  was  dressing  and  sending  her  to  school.  It  costs  a 
power  of  money,  so  the  Judge  says.  Oh,  she  says  she  works 
mornings  and  nights.  She  must  be  learning  right  smart,  for 
she  writes  powerful  pretty.  Read  that  again  where  she  tells 
about  going  to  meeting  on  Sunday,  where  the  bell  rings  and 
they  have  cushions  on  the  seats,  and  the  thing  plays,  and  all 
are  dressed  up  so.  Can't  be  there's  any  thing  bad  about 
going  to  school  and  meeting.  It  wouldn't  be  strange  if  that 
fellow  she  took  victuals  to  was  in  love  with  her  and  had  a 
hand  in  it.  They  say  the  Northern  folks  have  things  mighty 
nice  at  home.  Don't  you  remember  that  somebody  was  hei-e 
telling  how  they  have  houses  to  put  their  Avood  in  to  keep  it 
dry  ?  Well,  if  any  body  gets  her,  she'll  make  'em  happy. 
What  a  pity  she  didn't  stay  and  help  us  in  our  troubles. 
She  could  have  done  us  a  heap  o'  good. 

When  the  lieutenant  heard  there  was  a  letter  from  Kate, 
and  that  she  was  doing  well,  he  came  up  to  see  about  it.  So 
soon  as  he  looked  at  it  he  gave  a  whistle.  Why,  she  had  got 
to  be  a  right  plum  scholar.  Wisconsin  ?  Why,  it's  up  some- 
where towards  the  north  pole,  and  the  ground  freezes  forty 
feet  deep,  and  there  are  only  two  or  three  weeks  in  the  mid- 
dle of  the  summer  when  it  thaws  out,  and  then  the  mud  is  as 
deep  as  it  froze.  They  have  soldiers  from  that  place.  He 
believed  he  would  write  to  her.  He  wrote.  He  called  her 
dearest,  said  he  was  sorry  for  the  other  letter,  they  had  found 
out  something  new,  it  was  all  right  now. 

In  due  time  Kate  answered.  She  was  short,  respectful; 
not  a  bit  loving.  She  too  had  found  out  something  new  ;  of 
course  it  was  all  right.  She  wrote  to  her  parents  occasionally. 
They  were  convinced  she  was  in  good  hands,  and  they  wrote 
to  have  her  come  home ;  things  had  changed  for  the  worse, 
and  some  they  thought  sure  of  had  got  to  be  very  doubtful. 


THE  WAY  AND  THE  WILL.  143 

One  who  is  acquainted  in  Northern  villages,  where  good 
schools  are  the  pride  of  the  people,  know  how  much  society 
is  subordinate  to  literary  influences.  It  is  impossible  for  the 
illiterate  not  to  be  interested  while  they  who  belong  to  the 
inner  circle  form  a  strong  band,  walking  hand  in  hand.  In 
such  a  band  did  Kate  find  herself,  and,  as  she  progressed,  she 
daily  found  strength  in  thinking  that  when  the  captain 
should  return  she  could  show  him  how  well  by  her  will  she 
had  walked  in  the  way. 

Iii  about  eighteen  months  after  her  arrival,  a  good  judge  of 
language  and  western  society  scarcely  would  have  suspected 
her  to  be  a  native  of  the  South,  and  born  and  bred  in  South- 
east Missouri.  At  this  time  she  made  a  profession  of  religion, 
and  understandingly  united  with  the  Congregational  church. 
It  was  an  affecting  occasion  to  see  a  young  lady  of  her  de- 
scent, beauty  and  age,  baptized,  by  sprinkling,  before  the 
pulpit  and  all  the  people,  and  hundreds  of  pious  hearts  leaned 
towards  her.  When  meeting  was  over,  hands  crowded  to 
greet  her. 

Captain  Merrick  went  through  many  battles.  He  was 
promoted  as  a  lieutenant-colonel,  but  in  the  regiment  could 
not  rise  higher  because  it  was  so  much  reduced.  One  De- 
cember he  came  home.  He  knew  Kate  had  improved,  for 
her  letters  showed  this,  but  he  was  not  prepared  for  a  sur- 
prise so  great. 

It  was  already  dark  when  the  stage  came  into  Lake  View, 
and  he  hastened  across  the  lake  on  foot.  The  snow  was  fall- 
ing and  it  was  deep.  It  looked  strange,  for  he  had  just  come 
from  Natchez  where  there  were  roses.  He  was  shaking  off 
the  snow  in  the  entry  way ;  the  family  were  in  the  sitting- 
room  ;  they  knew  by  the  motions  that  it  was  Lemuel.  His 
sister  opened  the  door,  and  he  came  into  the  warm  carpeted 
room,  out  of  the  dark  and  cold.  There  was  a  little  chorus 
of  screams  and  laughter,  and  there  were  father,  mother,  sis- 
ters and  brother  to  shake  by  the  hand.  From  their  midst 
stepped  Kate.  He  took  her  by  both  hands,  and  shaking 
them  warmly  pulled  back  on  them  that  he  might  look  at. 


141  LIFE   IN   THE   WEST. 

her,  and  she  pulled  back  on  his,  to  look  at  him.  They  scarcely 
spoke,  but  how  pleasantly  they  smiled  ! 

The  captain  could  see  as  she  walked  how  much  she  had 
changed.  She  stepped  gracefully,  lightly,  and  with  self  pos- 
session. When  she  talked  her  eyes  sparkled  and  shone  with 
thought,  and  showed  deliberation. 

Officers  of  the  army  are  active  and  prompt.  In  an  enemy's 
country,  where  inattention  and  want  of  care  lead  to  captures 
and  loss  of  lives,  they  delay  no  duty.  A  furlough  of  thirty 
days  soon  passes.  The  next  evening  the  captain  and  Kate 
were  married.  So  many  were  present  that  they  had  to  set 
the  table  three  times. 

Almost  every  day  for  a  week  they  had  a  sleigh-ride. 
Wrapped  in  buffaloes  and  furs,  and  with  two  good  horses, 
the  bells  jingling  and  ringing,  they  rode  around  the  coun- 
try. The  captain  had  many  calls  to  make  to  see  his  old  sol- 
diers, crippled  and  maimed,  or  to  talk  with  parents  whose 
sons  had  given  their  lives  for  their  country.  As  they  rode, 
Kate's  cheeks  glowed  with  a  cherry  red  and  her  sparkling 
eyes  showed  that  her  heart  was  warm, 

Then  the  snow  went  off,  but  in  a  few  days  it  was  cold 
again,  and  the  lake  was  glare  ice.  The  very  first  winter 
Kate  had  learned  to  skate.  It  is  easier  for  young  persons  to 
do  as  the  rest  do  than  to  do  otherwise.  All  the  young  ladies 
of  the  Seminary  could  skate,  and  there  were  enough  young 
men  glad  to  help  them. 

The  captain  and  his  wife  highly  enjoyed  themselves  on 
the  ice.  Sometimes  there  would  be  as  many  as  a  hundred 
couple  out  at  once,  but  this  couple  was  much  observed  for 
keeping  close  together  and  often  locking  hands.  Some- 
times, on  moonlight  nights,  they  would  glide  together  around 
the  shore,  close  to  the  village  of  Lake  View  and  disappear 
in  the  distance.  They  went  and  they  came  like  a  pair  of 
doves.  In  that  cold  country  they  have  many  fine-wooled 
sheep,  and  so  warm  are  the  houses,  and  so  plentiful  is  the 
covering  of  their  high  soft  beds,  that  sleep  is  sweet. 

At  last  Kate  went  home  to  see  her  parents.    She  rode  over 


THE  WAY  AND  THE  WILL.  145 

with  a  neighbor  from  Columbus,  where  her  husband  held  an 
important  station  in  the  Colored  Brigade. 

"  Raily  now,  is  that  our  gal  ?  must  be ;  but  she's  powerful 
changed ;  'pears  like  as  if  she'd  been  a  livin'  among  the 
upper  crust.  But  she  aint  proud  none,  and  almost  the  fust 
thing  she  done  arter  she  tuck  off  her  things  and  put  'em 
away,  was  to  go  out  to  the  smoke-hoiise  and  look  in,  and 
says  she,  '  Ye  don't  seem  to  have  much  meat.'  '  No,'  says  I, 
and  didn't  say  no  more ;  then  she  goes  to  the  crib,  and  says 
she,  '  What's  the  matter,  you  haven't  no  corn,  that  is,  none 
to  speak  on  ?'  and  says  I,  '  Don't  ye  know.'  '  Know  what  ?' 
says  she.  '  Why,'  says  I,  '  the  niggers  is  all  gone,  and  we 
can't  make  no  corn.'  She  said  we  might  a  known  we'd  lose 
'em,  a  goin'  to  fight  agin  the  gov'ment.  She  didn't  seem  to 
feel  a  bit  sorry,  and  she  said  we  could  live  better  without 
'em  than  we  could  with  'em.  May  be  we  kin ;  may  be  we 
kin.  Then  she  went  to  the  stable,  and  says  she,  '  Whar's  the 
hosses  ?'  only  she  don't  say  hoss — I  don't  know  how  she 
speaks  it,  but  she  gives  it  a  Yankee  twist ;  why,  she's  a  plum 
Yankee.  *  And  ye  don't  know  that,  nother,'  says  I ;  '  why, 
the  sojers  comes  over  and  tuck  'em  away,  kase  they  said  we 
was  a  feedin'  and  helpin'  the  g'rillers  who  shot  some  o'  their 
pickets,  it  seems.'  And  says  I  to  her,  the  TJnioners  take  on 
terrible,  and  tell  how  much  it  costs  to  be  for  the  gov'ment ; 
but  says  I,  '  it  costs  a  heap  more  to  go  agin  it — a  heap  more.' 
Then  says  she,  « How  curis  ye  do  talk,  mother.'  « What !' 
says  I.  '  Nothin,'  says  she.  I'd  a  idy  she  thought  I  wa'n't 
quite  perlite  enough,  and  I  tell'd  her  I  never  studied  no 
gografy,  no  grummer.  '  Well,'  says  she, '  how  d'  ye  git  along, 
then  ?'  Says  I,  '  I  aint  got  thro'  tellin'  on  ye  what  they  done, 
— them  sojers.  They  come  hur  one  morniu'  with  seven  big 
wagons  with  U.  S.  marked  on  to  the  sides  of  'em,  and  every 
wagon  had  four  mules,  and  some  six,  and  they  had  U.  S. 
stamped  on  the  sides  of  'em,  and  they  hauled  away  corn,  day 
arter  day,  four  days,  and  they  tuck  off  all  the  fodder,  they 
said  they  wanted  it  fur  their  calvary,  but  we'd  git  pay  fur  it 
if  wo  was  fur  the  Union,  as  we  said  we  was;  but  if  we  wasn't, 
7 


146  LIFE   IN   THE  WEST. 

it  'd  be  mighty  onsartin';  and  oh,  I  tell'd  her  how  they  tuck 
off  all  the  chickens,  exceptin'  thirty  or  forty,  and  them  they 
couldn't  ketch,  and  they  tuck  off  all  the  bacon,  exceptin'  some 
we  hid,  and  all  the  lard,  but  I'd  buried  one  crock  in  the 
smoke-house ;  all  a  exceptin'  them  things,  and  I  ax'd  her  if 
she'd  a  believe  it,  they  tuck  off  two  cups  o'  honey  a  sayin' 
they'd  leave  us  some.  She  said  fur  sai-tin  that  was  too  bad, 
they  orter'n  to  done  it ;  but  arter  all  she  didn't  seem  to  kere 
werry  much  ;  fur  she  said,  that's  what  it  was  to  be  a  makin' 
war  when  there  was  no  war,  and  a  havin'  sich  a  power  o' 
folks  killed  and  busted  up,  tho'  them  wa'n't  the  words  she 
used.  But  says  I,  '  It  was  the  niggers  we  fit  fur.  They  was 
our  property.'  Then  she  turned  kinder  white,  and  said  there 
wa'n't  no  sich  thing  as  property  in  human  bein's,  the  Bible 
was  agin  it,  and  the  Constitution  wa'n't  fur  it,  and  we'd  seen 
what  we'd  got  by  fightin'  to  make  a  thing  so  when  it  wa'n't 
so.  And  more'n  this,  says  she,  'Who's  tech'd  yer  niggers  ?' 
'  Nobody,'  says  I, '  but  they  was  a  goin'  to.'  When  I  seed  what 
a  abolishioner  she'd  got  to  be,  I  thought  I'd  fix  'er ;  and  says 
I, '  Ye  don't  say  nothin',  Kate,  about  yer  old  man.  I  hope  yer 
married.'  '  Oh,  yes !'  says  she,  '  I'm  married,  and  you'll  see 
him  'fore  long.'  '  Whar  is  he  ?'  says  I.  '  He's  to  Columbus,' 
says  she.  '  Then  he's  a  sojer,'  says  I ;  '  I  hope  he  aint  none 
of  them  officers  to  the  nigger  sojers.'  'Yes,  he  is,'  says  she, 
*  and  he's  as  good  and  as  high  up  as  the  best  on  'em.'  In 
course,  I  couldn't  go  no  furder;  it  won't  do  to  say  nothin' 
agin  'em ;  but  if  I  wasn't  beat  to  think  a  gal  o'  mine  should 
be  the  wife  o'  a  nigger  abolishioner.  Still,  I  hope  she's 
married ;  but  I  want  to  set  eyes  on  him  afore  I  go  to  brag- 
gin'  ;  fur  ye  see,  I  kin  see. 

"  '  Did  ye  see,  man,  what  a  nice  shawl  Kate 's  got,  and  her 
breastpin  and  finger-rings  is  rale  bright.  How  they  do 
shine.  Oh,  how  her  hoops  do  stick  out !  I  wish  I  had  a  pair 
o'  ear-bobs  like  her'n.  And  she's  got  the  purtiest  yaller 
gloves  I  ever  seed.  They're  soft  as  a  mole.  She  says  she's 
married,  and  that  I'll  see  him." 

The  rebel  lieutenant  who  had  been  writing  to  Kate,  having 


THE    WAY    AND    THE    WILL.  147 

been  arrested  while  on  a  visit  home,  concluded  he  had  seen 
enough  fighting,  and  he  took  the  oath  of  allegiance.  When 
he  heard  that  Kate  had  come  home,  he  brushed  around  in  hot 
haste,  determined  to  go  and  see  her.  For,  not  having  heard 
she  was  married,  he  was  going  to  have  her.  The  next  morn- 
ing he  rode  up,  starched  as  grand  as  could  be.  The  first 
thing  he  wanted  to  know  was  where  Kate  was,  and  he  would 
not  listen.  Assurance  will  go  far,  and  he  thought  he  would  kiss 
her,  but  she  came  rather  slow,  and  he  thought  he  wouldn't. 
But  he  shook  her  hand  warmly  and  stood  around  her  per- 
fectly delighted.  How  had  she  been — how  did  the  Yankees 
use  her — were  they  not  a  queer  set — and  was  she  not  glad  to 
see  all  the  folks  and  old  Missouri  again  ?  He  had  knocked 
around  much  himself,  but,  as  the  song  says,  there  is  no  place 
like  home.  After  she  had  replied,  he  came  to  business.  Well, 
Kate,  let  the  past  be  past — they  must  make  up — he  had  al- 
ways thought  a  heap  of  her,  and  now  she  was  more  charming 
than  ever.  She  was  a  perfect  lady.  She  said  she  supposed 
he  had  understood  her  sentiments — what  could  he  expect 
after  writing  such  a  letter  ?  More  than  this,  he  did  not  seem 
to  know  who  he  was  talking  to.  While  she  said  this  he  did 
not  seem  to  know  that  she  was  talking  at  all,  for  he  was  look- 
ing out  of  the  window  at  an  officer  coming  up  the  other  side 
of  the  bayou,  and  a  negro  soldier  was  with  him.  She  asked 
him  if  he  saw  anybody.  Yes,  a  Union  officer  on  a  splendid 
bay.  Was  she  acquainted  with  him.  She  looked  and  said 
she  was  acquainted  with  him,  he  was  her  husband.  What ! 
— had  he  been  making  a  fool  of  himself?  Why  did  she  not 
tell  him  before  ?  He  was  so  fast  he  gave  no  body  time  to  say 
any  thing.  Well,  that  was  a  pretty  go.  So  she  was  married, 
was  she  ?  When  did  it  take  place  ?  Last  December.  Decem- 
ber? This  is  June,  and  he  counted  on  his  fingers,  why  that 
was  about  seven  months,  and  he  to  know  nothing  about  it ! 

The  officer  and  his  man  rode  up  to  the  house  on  a  canter. 
Captain  Merrick  came  in  looking  fresh  and  fine.  He  and  the 
lieutenant  had  met  before  at  the  time  of  a  little  examination. 
They  saluted  each  other  and  were  on  friendly  terms. 


148  LIFE   IN  THE  WEST. 

The  planter  and  his  wife  came  in  and  were  introduced  to 
their  son-in-law.  They  were  glad  Kate  had  done  so  well ; 
to  be  sure  she  had  run  great  risks,  no  girl  ought  to  do  so, 
but  she  knew  whither  she  was  going,  and  all  was  well.  They 
never  would  have  done  as  they  had,  if  they  had  not  been 
lied  to.  They  hoped  peace  would  come  soon,  and  some  how, 
they  did  not  care  much  how,  so  that  it  was  peace.  They 
wished  there  had  never  been  a  slave,  then  there  would  have 
been  no  war.  If  they  had  their  land  left  they  would  get 
along.  The  captain  listened  and  smiled,  and  agreed  with 
them.  He  rose  in  their  esteem.  Farther  acquaintance  led 
them  to  believe  him  a  worthy  man. 

Now  the  colored  soldier  was  the  one  whom  Kate  sent  in 
the  night  for  the  Union  man,  and  who  helped  the  captain  to 
escape.  He  had  hitched  the  horses  and  was  sitting  in  the 
porch  paying  no  attention  to  any  one.  He  did,  however, 
keep  turning  his  eyes  a  little  on  one  side.  He  was  dressed 
in  clean  blue  clothes,  and  he  had  succeeded  in  raising  quite 
saucy  moustaches.  After  a  little  the  children  came  around 
him  and  were  atti-acted  by  the  revolvers  in  his  belt,  then  they 
whispered,  asking  each  other  if  this  was  not  Bob.  At  last 
they  went  and  told  their  parents  who  the  negro  soldier  was. 
They  came  out:  "Why,  Bob,  is  this  you?" 

"You  used  to  call  me  Bob,  but  that  is  no  name.  My 
name  is  Haynes,  Robert  Haynes." 

"Ah,  Haynes,  is  it?  Well,  Mr.  Haynes,  let  us  shake 
hands."  Haynes  shook  hands  all  around,  and  they  seemed 
mutually  glad  to  see  each  other.  Let  folks  say  what  they  will, 
there  always  has  been  some  affection  between  the  master  and 
slave.  One  need  not  reply  that  the  same  may  be  said  of  a 
horse.  The  truth  is,  people  cannot  live  long  together  with- 
out forming  attachments,  and  all  know  that  masters  have 
often  felt  keen  anguish  when  they  sold  their  slaves.  Still, 
they  could  sell  them,  because,  by  association  with  a  low  order 
of  minds,  their  mental  standard  was  reduced  so  as  to  permit 
them  to  sell  them.  However,  nothing  so  much  has  ena- 
bled them  to  overcome  their  feelings  as  the  infamous  doc- 


THE  WAY  AND  THE  WILL.  149 

trine  taught  by  our  preachers  that  slavery  is  a  divine  insti- 
tution. 

The  old  master  thought  he  would  try  Haynes,  and  said : 
"  When  the  war  is  over,  would  you  not  like  to  come  back 
and  live  with  us  ?" 

"  Yes,  I  would ;  I  was  born  here.  I  have  no  other  home. 
But  if  I  come,  I  must  have  land,  or  pay  for  my  work.  I  have 
wife  and  children  to  take  care  of.  I  love  them  much.  I  love 
them  more  than  you  do  yours,  because  they  are  black  and 
have  few  friends.  But  I  will  fight  till  I  die  before  I  will  let 
you  make  me  a  slave,  and  you  will  have  to  be  right  smart  if 
you  don't  go  along  with  me." 


THE  NORTHERN  REFUGEE, 

DR.  McIXTOSH  is  a  first-rate  physician.  He  is  well 
informed  on  a  great  variety  of  subjects.  He  dresses 
neatly,  has  a  fine  taste,  and  takes  pride  in  having  a  large 
garden,  where  are  raspberries,  strawberries,  and  all  kinds  of 
vegetables,  ns  well  as  peaches  and  cherries.  In  addition,  he 
had  hot-beds  covered  with  glass,  where  he  started  melons, 
cucumbers  and  tomatoes.  This  garden  was  the  work  of  his 
own  hands,  during  his  leisure  hours.  His  practice  was  ex- 
tensive; he  kept  two  fine  horses  and  a  sulky  and  a  top 
buggy. 

The  place  where  he  lived  was  in  the  centre  of  one  of  those 
thriving  townships  in  the  Ohio  Western  Reserve.  There 
are  schools,  churches,  shops,  stores,  mills,  good  society, 
thrifty  farmers  and  rich  land — everything  which  can  help  to 
educate  and  make  families  comfortable  and  happy. 

The  doctor  was  a  democrat.  He  believed  that  the  demo- 
cratic party,  like  the  righteous,  is  to  endure  forever.  If  it 
shoiild  fall  from  its  high  standard,  it  was  to  be  raised  up  by 
its  leaders ;  but  it  never  could  die  out.  He  believed  in  the 
perseverance  of  the  saints. 

The  republican  party  and  the  abolitionists  were  his  aver- 
sion. He  battled  with  them  continually.  The  slavery  ques- 
tion he  would  not  discuss ;  but  if  the  institution  was  wrong, 
his  party,  North  and  South,  would  attend  to  it.  No  one 
else  had  a  right  to  say  a  word.  That  a  President  should  be 
elected,  as  Lincoln  was,  on  a  sectional  basis,  was  monstrous. 
He  had  no  patience  when  he  thought  of  it.  If  ever  there 
(150) 


THE  NORTHERN  EEFUGEE.  151 

was  a  wicked  war,  this  was  one.  It  was  striking  at  the  very 
foundation  of  our  Republic.  To  coerce  a  sister  State  was 
tyranny  of  the  worst  kind.  True,  he  blamed  the  South  for 
withdrawing  from  the  Union  and  for  throwing  away  the  old 
flag  and  taking  up  another.  They  made  a  woful  mistake  in 
not  fighting  under  the  Stars  and  Stripes.  Had  they  kept  the 
old  flag  they  would  have  secured  a  great  part  of  the  navy. 
Still,  he  did  not  expect  them  to  be  wise  in  everything. 
Something  must  be  granted  to  their  resentments  under  a 
sense  of  wrong. 

In  the  excitement  of  volunteering  his  oldest  son  wanted 
to  go  with  his  acquaintances  in  the  army.  The  mention  of 
it  threw  him  into  a  rage.  He  could  go ! — could  disgrace 
himself  and  the  family,  but  he  must  not  show  himself  in  the 
house  again — never  write — he  must  cut  himself  off  forever. 
His  oldest  daughter,  a  fine  amiable  girl,  had  a  sweetheart 
among  the  volunteers.  The  business  had  advanced  very  far. 
She  needn't  think  of  him  for  a  husband  except  at  the  cost  of 
bis  life-long  displeasure.  Xo  matter  if  he  was  as  learned  as 
Plato  and  as  rich  as  Astor ;  she  should  not  have  him.  In  no 
shape  or  manner  should  he  or  his  become  connected  with 
this  mad  warfare  on  the  constitutional  rights  of  the  people. 

The  family  thought  he  understood  such  things  better  than 
they.  He  was  a  good  father,  he  indulged  them  in  many 
things ;  none  were  better  provided  for.  He  was  what  a 
father  should  be.  Though  they  could  not  understand  his 
reasons,  or  see  the  force  of  all  his  arguments,  they  took  it 
for  granted  that  they  were  true,  and  partly  were  satisfied. 
His  wife,  however,  had  many  doubts ;  for  when  she  consid- 
ered that  the  question  seemed  to  turn  upon  whether  slavery- 
was  to  be  protected  or  discouraged  by  our  Government,  her 
heart  was  with  the  Union  Army.  And  when  she  read  ac- 
counts of  the  poor  slaves  with  their  bundles  of  rags  flocking 
to  our  ships  in  South  Carolina,  and  to  our  army  elsewhere, 
she  secretly  rejoiced,  even  though  she  read  the  account  in  a 
disloyal  paper.  Still,  she  loved  her  husband ;  she  could  not 
think  of  setting  up  her  own  notions,  which,  likely  enough, 


152  LIFE   IN   THE   WEST. 

would  be  her  prejudices,  opposed  to  his  convictions,  and  she 
never  disputed  with  him  a  word.  He  noticed,  however, 
that  she  might  mean  much  by  her  silence. 

Perhaps  this  region  of  the  Western  Reserve  had  more 
uncompromising  enemies  to  slavery,  and  more  stanch  friends 
to  the  Union  cause,  than  elsewhere,  in  proportion  to  the 
population.  They  had  become  so  established  in  their  views 
as  to  be  almost  intolerant.  Some  noticed  that  when  their 
soldiers  came  home,  and  having  learned  what  it  is  to  fight 
the  rebels,  did  not  use  such  sweeping  terms  and  unsparing 
reproaches  as  they  who  staid  at  home.  A  public  speaker 
was  better  liked  the  sharper  and  more  bitter  the  language 
he  used.  There  seems  in  this  a  lack  of  proper  discrimina- 
tion. It  is  the  extreme.  Undoubtedly  the  people  of  South 
Carolina  show  the  other  extreme.  The  merits  of  the  two 
are  determined  by  comparison — "By  their  fruits  ye  shall 
know  them."  The  people  of  the  Western  Reserve,  by  God's 
blessing  and  their  own  industry  and  good  sense,  possess  in 
more  abundance,  and  in  a  higher  degree,  the  fruits  and 
advantages  of  modern  civilization  and  of  modern  Chris- 
tianity than  almost  any  other  people.  It  is  well  known  in 
what  comparative  poverty  the  people  of  South  Carolina 
live.  Even  the  houses  of  the  rich  planters  often  are  less 
comfortable  and  have  less  good  furniture  than  frequently  is 
the  case  in  the  houses  of  common  blacksmiths  on  the 
Western  Reserve. 

It  was  not  long  before  the  doctor  found  his  situation  dis- 
agreeable in  the  extreme.  With  every  quality  calculated  to 
fit  him  and  his  family  to  take  the  lead  and  to  command  uni- 
versal respect,  he  found  himself  and  the  family  looked  upon 
with  suspicion,  mistrust,  contempt.  On  public  occasions,  at 
church  and  elsewhere,  he  could  sec  in  the  slurring  cast  of 
the  eye,  in  the  giving  of  ample  room,  and  the  cold  shaking 
of  the  hand,  that,  to  say  the  least,  he  was  held  in  low  esteem. 
He  was  deeply  mortified ;  his  family  felt  cut  to  the  quick, 
and  they  had  no  happiness  except  when  they  shut  the  doors 
and  found  it  with  each  other. 


THE  NORTHERN  REFUGEE.  153 

One  day,  when  he  was  trying  to  gather  comfort  from  the 
columns  of  his  paper,  he  noticed  an  advertisement  of  a  fruit 
farm  for  sale  in  Southern  Illinois.  There  were  forty  acres ; 
the  soil  was  excellent;  schools  and  churches  were  near;  a 
choice  orchard  was  beginning  to  bear;  there  was  an  acre  of 
strawberries ;  the  location  was  well  suited  for  a  physician  ;  if 
a  democrat ;  it  was  just  the  place  for  him. 

The  doctor  was  at  once  taken  with  the  idea  of  buying  the 
place  and  removing  thither  with  his  family.  He  would  get 
rid  of  the  abolitionists.  He  wrote  immediately  for  further 
information,  and,  in  particular,  he  inquired  if  there  were 
any  abolitionists  near  by. 

The  answer  was  satisfactory.  There  were  only  a  few 
Union  men  in  the  county,  and  these  were  scattered  here  and 
there  among  the  democrats.  Upon  this  he  sent  his  son  with 
money  enough  to  make  the  purchase  if  he  should  think  best, 
and  then  to  write,  for,  being  February,  it  was  important  they 
should  get  ready  for  spring  work.  His  son  went  on,  and 
soon  wrote.  All  was  as  represented,  though  things  looked 
rather  new  and  rough ;  the  roads  did  not  seem  first-rate ; — 
as  for  schools  and  churches,  he  had  not  seen  them,  but  he 
presumed  they  were  as  stated ;  consequently,  he  had  bought. 
The  price  of  the  place  was  $1,000,  but  the  man  wanting  to 
sell,  he  had  got  it  for  $800.  The  family  must  come  on  as 
soon  as  they  could. 

The  doctor  having  an  offer  for  his  house  and  the  twenty 
acres  of  land,  which  with  such  improvements,  are  always  sal- 
able, gave  a  deed,  received  the  money,  then  leaving  his  ac- 
counts for  collection,  they  packed  up  their  things,  and  start- 
ing early  in  March,  in  a  few  days  were  safely  set  down  in 
their  new  home. 

The  house  was  of  logs,  but  neat  and  comfortable ;  there 
was  a  little  log  barn,  a  cistern,  with  good  water,  and  some 
other  conveniences,  but  not  many.  The  fruit  trees  were  ex- 
ceedingly nice  and  thrifty.  Plainly  enough  could  they  see 
that  the  last  year's  growth  of  the  peach  was  from  three  to 
eight  feet.  But  on  many  of  the  trees  he  saw  very  curious 


154  LIFE  IN  THE  WEST. 

arrangements.  Some  had  cloths  tied  around  their  bodies,  a 
foot  or  so  from  the  ground,  and  they  were  smeared  with  tar, 
while  others  had  long  grafts  inserted  near  the  ground  and 
bent  over  scarred  and  cut  places,  then  inserted  above,  in  a 
manner  quite  ingenious.  Why  Hobart,  what  kind  of  work 
is  this  ?  Did  he  know  anything  about  it  ?  The  young  man 
had  to  try  to  laugh.  Mr.  Lockstock,  the  man  we  bought  of, 
came  from  New  York,  and  was  a  republican.  He  taugh 
school  when  they  would  have  him ;  he  was  quite  peaceable 
they  had  run  over  him ;  somebody  had  come  in  the  night 
and  girdled  the  trees ;  it  almost  broke  his  heart ;  his  life 
and  soul  had  been  in  his  orchard,  and  he  had  grafted  them 
in  this  way.  The  folks  say  it  was  the  deserters  who  did  it 
and  that  if  he  had  staid  he  would  not  have  been  troublec 
more,  for  they  have  all  gone  back.  Everybody  condemns 
such  business.  But  no  matter,  we  are  all  right. 

"How  is  it,  Hobart;  have  you  seen  much  of  the  neigh 
bors?" 

"  Well,  something.     They  seem  to  be  very  friendly  folks 
they  have  curious  ways,  but  they  are  good-hearted  and  ac- 
commodating.    They  are  all  glad  a  doctor  is  coming  among 
them.     They  say  we  can  make  our  independent  fortune." 

"No  doubt  we  shall  enjoy  ourselves.  We  must  expect 
some  inconveniences  in  a  new  country.  There  is  nothing 
like  living  in  a  place  where  we  can  be  something.  Here  we 
can  grow  up  with  the  country." 

The  doctor  had  horses,  cows,  and  grain  to  buy,  and  he 
went  around  to  get  them.  He  had  to  pay  fair  prices,  for  he 
was  supposed  to  be  loaded  with  money.  The  cows  did  not 
look  as  though  they  would  give  much  milk,  but  he  bought 
the  best  he  could  find. 

"  I  tell  you  what  it  is,  wife,  you  must  go  out  and  see  those 
folks.  You  will  be  amused ;  I  know  you  will.  You  have  no 
idea  how  few  things  they  get  along  with  in  the  house,  or 
how  funny  everything  looks.  But  they  are  the  most  friendly 
people  in  the  world.  It  is  true  they  are  ignorant.  I  am 
reminded  of  our  ancestors  when  they  lived  without  any  of 


THE  NORTHERN  REFUGEE.  155 

the  modern  improvements ;  of  the  old  Bible  days  of  David, 
and  Solomon,  and  Jeremiah,  and  Isaiah.  Why,  to  go  around 
is  almost  like  reading  Virgil's  pastorals,  or  Homer's  Odyssey, 
where  the  king's  daughters  go  down  to  the  stream  to  do 
washing." 

"  How  is  it,  doctor ;  have  they  many  orchards  ?  "  "I  can't 
say  as  they  have.  There  are  some  scattering  old  trees,  not 
grafted.  I  was  surprised  at  this,  and  asked  them  about  it. 
They  said  they  thought  they  had  '  a  heap ' — '  a  power ' — 
that's  the  way  they  talk.  There's  another  thing.  We  have 
been  calling  this  a  new  country.  It  has  been  settled  longer 
than  Ohio.  I  don't  know  what  they've  been  doing.  There 
is  no  use  of  talking  about  growing  up  with  the  country. 
The  country  has  already  grown  up. 

"  Did  you  get  any  bees  ?  " 

"  No.  They  wouldn't  sell  any.  They  said  it  was  bad 
luck  to  sell  bees.  But  one  thing  did  me  some  good.  They 
are  all  right  in  their  politics.  People  up  North,  with  all 
their  schools  and  information,  may  come  here  and  learn  what 
the  true  principles  of  government  are.  I  did  not  talk  writh 
a  man  but  was  opposed  to  Abe  Lincoln  and  the  war.  I  mis- 
take. I  saw  Lockstock,  the  brother  of  the  man  we  bought  of." 

"  So  there  are  some  northern  folks  here.  Did  you  go  in 
and  see  his  wife  ?  How  do  things  look  ?  " 

"  Pretty  well.  I  didn't  get  off.  I  was  enquiring  the  way. 
Lockstock  was  by  the  side  of  the  road  preparing  ground 
among  his  peach  trees  for  planting  cotton.  Cotton  grows 
here,  did  you  know  it  ?  and  they  say  it  does  wrell.  I  must 
plant  some.  He  had  a  refugee  at  work  with  him.  I  shouldn't 
think  any  of  the  deserters  would  trouble  Lockstock.  He  has 
an  awful  big  beard,  that  curls  over  and  makes  him  look  as 
fierce  as  an  army  in  battle  array.  He  and  the  refugee  came 
to  the  fence.  The  refugee  looks  poor  enough.  They  say  the 
country  is  filled  with  them.  I  wonder  what  they  are  doing 
here.  When  they  found  out  my  politics  both  of  them  began 
to  grin.  Lockstock  didn't  say  much ;  but  he  said  he  was 
glad  I  had  come,  and  he  hoped  I'd  get  enough  of  it." 


156  LIFE   IN   THE  WEST. 

"I  wonder  what  he  meant  by  that  ?" 

"  So  do  I.     He  can't  be  much." 

"  I  don't  know  what  he  meant  and  I  don't  care ;  but  this  I 
know,  we  don't  want  to  have  anything  to  do  with  him,  for 
they  say  he  is  the  blackest  kind  of  an  abolitionist,  and  a 
desperate  fellow.  They  say  all  the  Union  men  here  are  des- 
perate— always  go  armed,  and  just  as  lief  shoot  as  not. 
Some  of  them  swear  like  pirates.  We'll  keep  clear  of  them. 
Did  you  get  any  butter  ?  " 

"  No ;  but  they  said  they'd  have  some  day  after  to-mor- 
row." 

"  I  tried  to  get  some  too,  but  could  not.  It  is  a  scarce 
time  for  butter  everywhere.  You  know  it  was  so  in  Ohio 
this  time  of  the  year.  How  long  before  you  can  make  some 
from  our  cows  ?  " 

"  Not  very  quick,  unless  they  give  more  milk.  The  chil- 
dren must  have  some.  It  seems  to  be  very  good  what  there 
is  of  it," 

"  I  think  it  ought  to  be,  when  they  eat  nothing  but  Indian 
meal.  I  can't  find  anybody  who  has  hay,  or  who  is  going  to 
have.  Well,  we  will  have  grass  pretty  soon.  They  say  it 
is  good  feed  by  the  first  of  April." 

"  I'd  like  to  know  where  your  cows  will  get  it,  for  I  see 
none  in  any  of  the  lots." 

"  I  know  that.  I  must  sow  clover  and  timothy.  The  way 
they  do  is  to  let  the  cows  run  in  the  woods  and  on  the  creek 
bottoms.  I'll  get  a  bell.  Then  we  can  find  them.  I  have 
read  how  cane  grows  on  the  bottoms,  and  cattle  live  on  it  all 
winter." 

"So  you  expect  the  cows  will  run  in  the  woods  a  few 
years,  till  your  grass  grows  ?  " 

"  Oh,  we  must  get  bran  and  save  all  the  slops." 

"  Very  well ;  but  it  don't  look  to  me  as  though  this  were 
likely  to  amount  to  much.  We  shall  see."  • 

The  Sunday  after  they  arrived  one  of  their  nearest  neigh- 
bors, with  his  wife  and  young  child,  came  over.  The  style 
of  dress  amused  the  girls. 


THE   NORTHERN   REFUGEE.  157 

"We  waited  a  good  bit  expectin'  ye'd  coine  over,  and 
when  we  seed  ye  didn't,  thought  we'd  come,  and  we  fotch'd 
our  young  one ;  it  cried  powerful  hard  to  come.  "We  want 
to  be  friends.  But  we  didn't  know  whether  to  come  or  not 
when  we  seed  yer  door  was  shot.  We  allowed  yer  was  gone 
off." 

No  matter  about  the  rest  of  the  visit.  When  they  got 
home  a  crowd  of  neighbors  were  there  waiting  to  hear  their 
report. 

"  Ye  see,  they've  got  things  powerful  nice.  They've  car- 
petin'  on  the  floor  and  brass  candlesticks,  and  heaps  o'  books, 
and  the  little  gals  has  short  dresses,  and  panterletts  all  scol- 
loped and  worked  off,  and  they've  got  their  har  done  into  a 
net,  and  their  shoes  do  shine,  and  she's  got  a  nice  long  dress, 
and  her  har  into  a  net,  and  a  buzum  pin,  and  her  shoes  do 
shine ;  and  the  big  gals  has  nets  and  buzum  pins,  and  their 
dresses  stick  out,  and  is  starched,  and  all  on  'em  wears 
boughten  store  goods.  I  can't  tell  what  sights  o'  things 
they  got.  Then  they've  got  a  musical  thing  in  a  chist,  and 
a  little  table  with  a  lot  o'  wires  and  fixins  on  top,  with  a 
spool  o'  thread  in  among  'em.  Well,  they  treated  iis  well ; 
but  they  looked  kinder  solemn  like,  and  ax'd  if  there  wa'nt 
no  meetin'  to-day." 

"  I've  hearn  tell  o'  some  folks  as  don't  never  go  a  visitin' 
on  Sunday.  May  be  they's  this  kind." 

"  May  be ;  but  they're  powerful  pretty  folks.  They've 
mighty  quare  ways  though,  and  speak  curis  English.  Corn 
meal,  they  call  Ingin  meal ;  for  cheer,  they  says  charr;  and 
instead  o'  sayin'  drap — she  draps  her  hankercher,  ye  know — 
they  drups  or  drops  it,  I  do  not  know  which  ;  and  a  heap  o' 
sich  words." 

About  the  first  thing  the  doctor  did  was  to  send  his  chil- 
dren to  school.  Other  children  went  with  them,  and  there 
was  no  "difficulty  in  finding  the  way.  It  was  dark  when 
they  came  back.  Oh,  it  was  a  dreadful  long  way;  they 
were  so  tired  and  so  hungry ;  the  school-house  was  down  in 
a  hollow  among  the  trees,  and  there  was  a  spring  near  by, 


158  LIFE   IX   THE   WEST. 

or  hole  in  the  ground,  where  they  dipped  water  into  the 
pail,  half  a  cupful  at  a  time.  There  were  no  backs  to  the 
seats.  How  did  they  like  the  teacher?  Oh,  very  well,  but 
he  didn't  teach  as  they  do  in  Ohio.  Ah !  why  not  ?  they 
say  he  is  a  first-rate  teacher — splendid,  was  the  word. 

"  Well,  he  didn't  pronounce  the  same  way,  and  he  can 
scarcely  read.  Oh,  dear,  you  never  heard  such  a  reader; 
Milly  can  beat  him." 

"  That's  bad.  I  remember  now,  they  said  they  had  got 
over  having  northern  teachers ;  they  always  turned  out  to 
be  abolitionists.  Perhaps  they  make  a  little  mistake  here. 
There  must  be  good  teachers.  There  is  nothing  like  having 
good  schools.  The  winter  school  will  be  out  soon.  It  is 
likely  that  the  next  teacher  wTill  be  better." 

In  a  few  days  the  doctor  told  the  children  it  was  so  muddy 
they  had  better  not  go  any  more  at  present.  But  it  was 
quite  dry  in  the  woods.  Is  it  ?  Well,  stay  at  home  and 
help  mother  pick  up  chips.  They  could  get  them  all  picked 
up  in  the  morning.  Never  mind.  They  must  do  as  they 
were  bid. 

When  the  winter  school  closed,  the  doctor  made  great 
efforts  to  have  a  good  northern  teacher  emploved,  but  he 
quickly  found  that  their  prejudices  were  so  strong  that  he 
had  to  give  it  up.  Then  he  proposed  that  his  daughter 
should  teach ;  she  had  taught  three  summers  in  Ohio.  This 
took  them  by  surprise.  They  had  never  heard  of  a  woman 
teaching.  Yes,  they  had,  way  back  yonder  a  certain  planter 
had  one  in  his  family ;  that  might  do,  but  in  a  regular  school 
it  wouldn't.  Besides,  and  this  was  whispered,  what  would 
their  women  say  ? — they  couldn't  read ;  and  to  see  her  dressed 
up  and  getting  so  much  money,  wouldn't  they  be  jealous  ? 
Of  course.  However,  by  coaxing  and  worrying  he  succeeded 
in  having  her  try.  At  his  own  expense,  he  got  some  backs 
for  the  seats,  had  a  blackboard  made,  and  another  window 
put  in. 

She  opened  her  school,  and  being  anxious  to  please,  did 
her  very  best.  The  children  were  delighted,  and  well  they 


THE  NORTHERN  REFUGEE.  159 

might  have  been.  But  soon  there  was  trouble.  She  was 
teaching  them  to  sing.  They  didn't  hire  her  for  any  such 
fol-de-rol.  There  was  another  thing — she  didn't  keep  hours 
enough.  Only  six  hours !  That  wouldn't  answer.  She 
must  commence  early  and  keep  till  sundown.  If  they  paid 
a  man  to  do  a  day's  work,  they  wanted  him  to  do  it.  More, 
the  children  didn't  say  their  lessons  often  enough.  Twice 
in  the  forenoon  and  twice  in  the  afternoon  was  nothing  but 
play,  these  long  days.  They  must  be  kept  at  it,  around 
and  around.  Things  must  move  lively.  She  saw  the  ab- 
surdity of  these  things — the  utter  absurdity.  Children  will 
scarcely  learn  at  all  if  forced  in  this  way.  Her  father  knew 
it  as  well  as  she.  She  quit  singing ;  she  kept  all  day.  Is  it, 
or  is  it  not  possible  to  suit  them  ?  Possibly  she  might  do 
now. 

This  was  thought  to  be  quite  a  condescension.  For  no 
other  Northerner  would  think  of  doing  so  much.  But  he 
was  a  powerful  nice  man.  Perfectly  splendid !  He  had 
queer  notions,  it  was  true ;  but  he  would  get  over  them. 
He  should  have  time.  They  did  not  expect  it  would  come 
all  at  once.  Then,  his  family  was  good  stock.  His  children 
would  marry  theirs,  for  where  else  could  they  go  ?  Theirs 
would  marry  his.  That  would  make  them  all  alike.  They 
saw  it.  The  country  was  coming  up.  It  wanted  a  few 
more  such  families  —  of  course  they  must  be  democrats. 
They  considered  their  land  worth  three  or  four  dollars  more 
an  acre.  He  would  write  and  have  others  come.  Only 
think  that  he  should  be  so  generous  as  to  give  them  what 
strawberries  they  wanted,  when  he  could  sell  them  for  so 
much  money.  He  wanted  his  neighbors  to  have  fruit.  It 
was  more, fruit  and  less  meat  that  people  wanted.  Fruit  was 
good.  How  different  from  Lockstock.  He  wouldn't  give 
them  any.  All  he  would  do  was  to  offer  the  plants,  that 
they  might  raise  them  themselves.  But  he  was  not  going 
to  hoe  and  sweat  to  raise  strawberries  for  them.  A  great 
fellow  he !  They  did  think  that,  may  be,  they  would  get 
some  plants  and  set  them  out  if  they  could  find  a  ulace ;  but 


160  LIFE   IN   THE 

what  was  the  use  ?  The  doctor  would  always  have  a  plenty. 
He  was  the  fellow  for  them. 

Not  long  afterwards,  some  woman  let  out  in  this  style : 

"  I  seed  something  was  the  matter,  and  I  ax'd  him  what 
it  was.  He  said  '  Nothin' ;'  but  the  young  uns  tolled  it ;  he'd 
been  to  axin'  the  doctor's  gal,  that  thar  schoolmam ;  ax'd 
her  something  about  something ;  young  folks  has  feelin',  and 
she  said  she  wouldn't.  I'd  like  to  know  if  my  boy  John 
ain't  as  good  as  she  ar'  eny  day  !  Han't  we  got  land,  han't  we 
got  housen  and  bosses  as  well  as  hern  ?  Gettin'  mighty  big, 
mighty  big.  S'pose  she  thinks  kase  John  can't  read  he  ain't 
no  'count.  My  'pinion  is,  readin'  an't  no  use  if  it  sticks  'em 
up  this  yur  way.  If  it  wan't  we'd  be  taxed,  I  wouldn't  send 
my  young  ones  another  lick." 

"  I  wonder,  now,  if  she  sarved  your  boy  like  that !  My 
Jake  ain't  much,  and  when  she  sacked  him,  I  telled  him  he 
mought  a  knowed  better,  and  I  telled  him  afore  'twan't  no 
use.  But  he  thought  he  knowed  more'n  his  mam,  and  he 
had  to  go ;  and  he  went  and  gone  and  done  it.  The  trouble 
with  Jake  is,  he  han't  got  no  git  up.  Still  she  mought  a-gone 
furder  and  fared  was.  Jake  is  nobody's  fool,  if  I  do  say  it. 
But  it's  a  shame  the  young  fellers  should  be  a-runnin'  atter 
her,  and  a-neglectin'  the  gals  they  knows  all  about  and  is 
used  to.  That's  a  bad  business,  and  it's  got  to  be  put  a  stop 
to.  It's  a-makin'  a  fuss  all  through  the  Settlement.  It's 
wus  nor  if  he'd  cum  yur  like  all  the  rest  o'  the  Yankees, 
then  the  fellers  wouldn't  a-expected  nothin'  o'  his  gals. 
They  mought  be  kinder  pooty  for  'em  to  look  at,  and  that's 
all  the  good  it'd  do  'em." 

"  Lor'  me,  'pears  like  as  if  he  is  a  thinkin'  hisself  better 
nor  we  is.  Wonder  if  he  don't  now ;  a  talkin'  'bout  fruit 
and  roads — seems  we  haint  got  no  roads  good  enough  for 
him,  and  about  butter  and  cheese  and  grass — why  he's  talk- 
ing half  the  time  'bout  our  not  havin'  no  grass,  and  he  can't 
git  no  butter.  Why,  that  little  sarpent  o'  hisen,  Georgey, 
he  came  over  here  tother  day  to  git  some  butter,  and  I 
hadn't  got  none,  and  he  seed  the  churn  a  standin'  in  the 


THE  NORTHERN  REFUGEE.  161 

harth  corner,  and  says  he,  what's  this  ?  Says  I  'taint  butter, 
but  may  be  'twill  be  some  day.  '  Jes  so,'  says  he, '  let's  churn 
it,'  and  to  get  rid  o'  him  I  let  him  churn,  and  he  helped  me 
git  it  out,  and  then  he  weighed  it  just  like  a  marchand,  when 
he  out  with  the  money  and  away  he  went  with  his  butter  a 
kiten'.  I  believe  them  folks  git  butter  enough  to  grease 
themselves  all  over  from  top  to  bottom.  They  can't  eat 
unless  they  have  it.  Now,  one  day  I  sent  for  the  old  doctor 
to  come  and  see  my  sick  young  one,  and  when  he  sot  down 
and  looked  at  it,  he  begins  to  talk  to  me  'bout  keepiu'  clean, 
just  as  if  I  never  seed  no  water.  Says  he  to  me,  says  he, 
'  it's  werry  'portant,  mam ' — ye  know  how  he  talks,  big  like, 
'  'portant,  mam  to  keep  a  child  clean.  It  saves  'em many  times 
from  bein'  sick.'  And  when  I  gits  some  water  and  a  cloth 
he  said  that  want  half  enough,  so  I  got  more,  and  when  I 
went  to  wash  him  he  didn't  seem  to  like  my  way,  and  he 
tuck  the  wash-basin  out  o'  my  hand,  and  went  to  washin' 
and  scrubbin',  and  the  boy  had  a  high  fever — then  says  he, 
git  some  more  water,  if  you  please ;  then  he  washed  him  ail 
over  agin,  and  I  had  to  git  a  big  cloth  for  him  to  rub  him. 
Then  he  said  I  must  do  it  just  so  two  or  three  times  a  day. 
'  Well,'  says  I,  '  but  whar's  the  medicine  ? '  '  Oh,  yes,'  says  he, 
and  he  kinder  smiled,  and  he  gin  some  powders  lookin' 
like  flour.  But  I  guv  him  the  credit  o'  gettin'  the  boy 
well." 

"Yes,  that's  the  way  he  does;  nobody  can't  suit  him. 
'Taint  no  use  o'  tryin'  to  get  along  with  such  folks.  They 
better  stay  whar  they  come  from.  That's  what  they  had. 
Thar's  that  other  gal  o'  his.  She's  comin'  on  mighty  top- 
pin,  like  a  young  pullet.  We  don't  want  no  sich  folks — we 
han't  no  use  for  'em.  I  don't  want  to  say  nothin',  and  I 
wouldn't,  only  you  uns  is  friendly  to  we  uns ;  but  my  gal 
Abby — I.aint  given  to  praise  her  up,  kase  she  aint  nobody; 
I  know  that ;  she  now — I  seed  it,  though  mothers  don't  see 
nothin' — it  was  that  night  Griggs  preached  to  the  Baptist, 
and  the  moon  was  a  shinin' ;  she  was  a  comin'  a  long  right 
past  his  Hobart,  and  she  hadn't  no  beau,  though  I  don't 
know  how  it  happened — she  giuerally  has  to  sack  a  half  a 


162  LIFE   IN   THE    WEST. 

dozen — well,  may  be  not  so  many,  and  he  seed  who  it  was 
and  said  '  good  evenin ' — and  she  a  lookin'  up  and  seem'  who 
it  was,  said,  '  good  evenin ' — but  more  nor  that  he  didn't  say 
so  much  as  boo.  I  don't  find  no  fault.  If  they  don't  like  me 
nor  mine,  nor  any  of  yourn — nor  yourn,  nor  nobody  else's, 
and  if  they  don't  want  to  mix,  nor  to  be  mixed,  what  are 
they  hur  for  ?  I  wan't  to  know  that.  I  know  he  said  he 
come  to  git  whar  thar  want  no  abolitioners,  and  that  doc- 
trine tuck  mighty  well  with  all  on  us ;  'pears  like  there 
warn't  nobody  like  him.  But  that  ain't  the  thing.  I'd 
rather  he'd  be  the  blackest  kind  o'  an  abolishioner  than 
what  he  is.  The  fact  ar,  he  ain't  no  dimocrat,  no,  not  a  bit 
on't ;  thar  ain't  no  dimocratic  blood  in  him ;  they  don't 
make  dimocrats  out  o'  any  sich  kind  o'  stuff  as  he's  made  on." 

"  That's  a  fact,  and  I  thought  so  a  heap  o'  times.  He's  a 
rigeler  old  abolitiouer  in  every  thing  except  a  sayin'  he  isn't. 
I  shouldn't  wonder  if  he'd  run  away.  I  shouldn't  wonder  if 
he  was  a  Northern  Refugee.  Now,  he  said  he  come  from 
Ohio.  Ohio  ain't  no  place.  It's  a  river.  We  crossed  it 
when  we  come  from  North  Carolina,  and  we  didn't  see  him 
then,  nor  nothin'  that  looked  like  him.  Tother  Sunday, 
school-master  Crooks  was  to  our  house,  and  some  on  'em  told 
him  to  look  in  the  spellin'  book  and  see  how  this  doctor  spelt 
his  name,  and  he  looked  and  looked,  nigh  unto  half  a  day, 
and  it  want  thar.  So  you  see  it  looks  mighty  like  he  ran 
away  and  took  a  name  that  ain't  no  name,  kase  it  ain't  in  the 
spellin'  book." 

All  these  things  came  to  the  doctor's  ears  by  way  of  the 
children ;  but  being  a  man  experienced  in  the  world,  he  let 
them  pass.  One  will  be  busy,  indeed,  if  he  permit  such 
things  to  disturb  him. 

Not  far  from  this  time,  I  was  hunting  a  mule  through 
Williamson  county,  and  came  to  the  doctor's  house.  It  was 
noon.  I  was  hungry,  and  as  things  looked  snug,  for  there 
were  flowers,  I  rode  up,  and  hearing  nothing  of  my  mule, 
asked  if  I  could  get  dinner.  The  doctor  ran  his  hands 
through  his  hair,  thought  a  moment,  and  then  went  in  to 


THE  NORTHERN  REFUGEE  163 

ask  his  wife.  I  knew  then  I  should  get  dinner,  for  he  would 
tell  her  it  Avas  a  decent  sort  of  a  fellow,  and  she  would  ac- 
commodate me  so  as  to  gratify  her  curiosity.  This  is  natural 
in  this  country.  As  I  was  going  in  I  happened  to  see  one  of 
the  boys  streaking  across  the  lot,  carrying  a  two-quart  tin 
pail.  The  table  was  set ;  they  said  dinner  was  not  quite 
ready ;  it  would  be  soon,  and  yet  she  and  the  girls  sat  around 
doing  nothing. 

I  had  spoken  but  a  few  words  before  she  wanted  to  know 
if  I  was  not  from  the  east.  "Well,  something  like  it.  She 
thought  she  could  tell  a  Yankee  from  a  native  very  quick. 
Then  they  wanted  to  know  my  politics.  Knowing  how  the 
land  lay,  I  told  them  that  the  South  ought  to  have  her  rights, 
and  that  I  would  be  glad  when  the  war  should  be  over.  Of 
course  they  took  me  to  be  of  their  school.  After  some  time 
I  saw  a  boy  go  round  to  the  back  door,  and  then  we  had 
dinner. 

They  wanted  to  know  how  I  got  along  here,  and  what  we 
did  for  milk  and  butter.  I  took  the  occasion  to  give  my  ex- 
perience, how,  at  first,  from  two  cows  we  could  get  hardly 
milk  enough  to  put  in  tea,  saying  nothing  about  cream ;  how 
the  people  said  clover  and  grass  would  not  grow ;  how,  after 
getting  out  of  patience,  I  tried,  failed,  tried  again  and  suc- 
ceeded finely,  and  how,  at  that  time,  we  had  abundance  both 
of  milk  and  butter.  I  told  them  that  northern  men  did  not  un- 
derstand the  climate ;  that  it  was  necessary  to  get  crops  in 
early,  not  to  be  out  of  the  way  of  frost,  but  out  of  the  way 
of  the  hot  and  dry  weather,  hence  anything  that  was  not 
ready  fully  to  mature  by  first  of  August  would  fail.  As  re- 
gards grass,  I  was  fully  convinced  that  it  grows  nearly  as 
well  there  as  in  the  North,  because  it  has  a  long  spring,  and 
a  hot  June  to  grow  in,  and  that  as  the  soil  of  the  southern 
States  is  similar  to  this,  whenever  the  right  kind  of  men 
should  settle  there,  hay  would  be  cut  in  abundance.  Still  it 
required  much  experience.  The  trouble  is,  that  if  they 
happen  to  get  a  little  grass,  they  turn  in  the  cattle  as  soon 
as  it  grows,  and  they  destroy  it.  They  are  so  miserably 


164  LIFE   IN    THE    WEST. 

poor  and  behindhand  as  never  to  be  able  to  wait,  and  they 
raise  grain  to  have  something  to  keep  cattle  through  the 
whole  year,  otherwise  they  will  starve.  Such  being  the  con- 
dition of  the  great  majority  there  is  no  supply,  as  at  the 
North,  where  one  can  purchase,  and  the  only  way  for  one  to 
do  is  to  depend  upon  himself.  It  is  the  same  as  if  he  were 
on  an  island.  The  trouble  is  not  in  the  country  at  all.  It 
lies  in  the  people  themselves.  Here,  better  than  elsewhere, 
can  we  see  what  enterprising,  intelligent  men  do  in  making 
good  society.  There  can  be  no  refinement,  no  education,  no 
wealth — consequently  no  good  society,  where  the  raising  of 
stock  and  the  raising  of  grain  and  grass  do  not  go  hand  in 
hand.  Grain  and  grass  support  stock — stock  will  renew  and 
keep  good  the  land.  Don't  you  see  that  farms  are  get- 
ting poorer  here  every  year?  What  will  you  do?  Why 
simply  nothing  till  the  people  change,  or  another  class 
comes  in. 

"  That's  a  fact,"  said  the  doctor. 

I  added :  "  The  same  condition  prevails  in  the  South. 
This  style  of  farming  was  brought  hither  bodily  from  the 
South." 

"  Well,  what  do  you  do  for  schools  and  meetings  ?"  said 
the  doctor's  wife.  "  Do  you  go  to  meeting  ?" 

"  As  for  schools,  I  or  my  wife  teach  our  children ; 
now  that  they  are  growing  up,  we  are  going  to  have  a 
teacher  in  the  house.  As  for  meetings,  we  live  without 
them." 

Then  she  spoke  up :  "  Never  in  my  lite,  no  never,  did  I  go 
to  such  meetings.  I  have  no  desire  to  go.  I  think  it  is  a 
shame  that  we  have  got  into  such  a  country  as  this — no 
schools,  no  " 

"  Wife,  wife,  let  us  not  find  too  much  fault.  We  may 
have  more  than  we  deserve.  Possibly  we  may  move  to  a 
better  country  next  time,  then  we  will  know  how  to  prize 
comforts  and  privileges." 

I  told  him  he  must  not  think  of  leaving.  The  country 
stands  greatly  in  need  of  such  men  to  help  redeem  it  from 


THE   NORTHERN  REFUGEE.  165 

the  curse  of  slavery-farming  which  the  people  have  trans- 
ported hither  with  their  habits  and  prejudices. 

"  Oh,  I  see ,  you  are  on  the  other  side  of  the  house.  I  tell 
you  what  it  is,  you  fellows  have  got  at  some  truth  after  all, 
for  I  can't  help  seeing  how  cursed  poor  slavery  makes  a 
country." 

I  bade  them  good-by.  I  knew  he  could  not  stand  it  long, 
because,  being  a  professional  man  and  used  to  cultivated 
society,  he  would  seek  it,  so  soon  as  the  novelty  disappeared. 
It  would  have  been  different  if  he  had  been  ambitious  to 
make  the  soil  yield  his  family  a  support,  or  if  he  had  self- 
reliance  and  determination  enough  to  isolate  his  family 
from  others.  This  he  was  neither  able  nor  willing  to  do. 
Lockstock  had  seen  the  same  thing,  and,  as  he  predicted, 
the  doctor  got  enough  of  it. 

He  had  been  troubled  to  find  his  cows.  They  would  not 
come  up  half  the  time.  Frequently  all  the  children,  as  well 
as  himself,  would  be  out.  It  was  like  hunting  for  particular 
sqxiirrels.  One  night,  only  one  came  up.  She  had  been 
gone  two  days,  and  looked  as  though  she  had  milk  in  her. 
The  doctor  opened  the  gate  to  turn  her  in  the  yard.  She 
did  not  like  the  idea  of  being  shut  up  all  night  with  nothing 
to  eat,  and  alone.  She  turned  and  ran ;  the  doctor  after  her. 
He  did  not  come  back  till  dark ;  he  lost  his  hat,  and  he  was 
scratched  and  bruised.  He  believed  he  had  been,  at  least, 
ten  miles.  It  might  have  been  twenty.  Several  times  he 
got  hold  of  her  tail ;  she  slung  him  away ;  he  would  get  in 
front  of  her,  when  she  knocked  him  down  and  ran  over  him. 
He  followed  after.  She  could  run  as  fast  as  he  could.  He 
tried  to  outrun  her.  Her  bell  rattled  and  rattled ;  he  could 
get  no  nearer.  At  last,  a  herd  of  cattle  came  up.  They  all 
stopped  and  looked  at  him.  Then  they  hoisted  sail,  crushed 
through  the  underbrush  and  that  was  the  last  he  saw  of 
them.  He  came  out  to  a  clearing,  found  a  house ;  they  put 
him  on  the  road  home.  It  was  three  miles  to  travel.  When 
he  got  through  panting,  he  called  for  a  dry  shirt  and  a  bed 
by  himself. 


166  LIFE   IX   THE   WEST 

His  daughter  had  submitted  to  everything,  and  injured 
her  health  by  teaching  all  day  through  the  hot  summer 
months.  She  had  a  fair  attendance ;  they  were  going  to 
have  the  \vorth  of  their  money.  Several  times  the  directors 
came  in  with  new  regulations  and  ignorant  remarks.  The 
scholars  ceased  to  respect  her.  After  harvest,  some  large 
boys  thought  they  would  have  some  fun,  and  they  went. 
In  a  few  days  they  used  vulgar  language,  even  in  school. 
"When  she  reproved  them,  they  looked  at  her  with  studied 
impudence.  No  matter  what  they  said.  She  was  afraid. 
She  closed  school  early,  gathered  up  her  papers,  and  ran 
like  a  frightened  deer  through  the  woods.  She  would  not 
teach  school  another  day.  X ever  would  she  enter  that  house 
again.  They  refused  to  pay  her.  The  doctor  applied  to  the 
State  Superintendent  and  she  got  her  money.  That  officer 
sharply  reproved  the  directors. 

All  at  once  the  doctor  found  his  younger  children  speak- 
ing the  native  language.  "  You  drap  that ;"  "  Whar's  the 
saft  soap?"  "Mam,  this  is  pretty  store  truck;"  "Them's 
ingins."  More  than  this,  they  used  language  unfit  to  hear 
or  print.  The  doctor  awoke.  He  was  forced  to  remark 
that  ignorance  and  impurity  are  inseparable.  For  two  days 
he  -would  not  speak.  When  he  was  sent  for,  he  said  he 
would  not  go.  An  awful  thunder-storm  was  on  his  face. 
No  one  dared  speak  to  him.  Only  two  or  three  times  had 
they  ever  seen  him  thus. 

When  he  came  to,  he  went  and  sat  down  by  his  daughter 
and  kissed  her.  She  looked  up  and  thought  she  never 
saw  him  look  so  pleasant.  He  asked  her  how  long  it  had 
been  since  she  had  heard  from  her  sweetheart.  She  blushed, 
stammered,  and  said  it  was  some  time.  "Well,  she  must 
write  to  him.  He  was  a  young  man  he  liked.  She  should 
have  him,  and  he  wrould  give  her  money.  He  said  he  had 
seen  enough  of  the  causes  of  this  war;  henceforth  he  was 
for  the  war,  and  he  was  opposed  to  slavery  with  all  the 
strength  of  his  soul  and  of  his  body.  Hateful  and  accursed 
is  slavery.  It  was  making  barbarians  with  railroad  speed. 


THE  NORTHERN*  REFUGEE.  167 

He  thanked  the  Lord  that  the  war  had  come  to  cut  short  its 
career. 

There  was  rejoicing  in  the  family,  for  it  promised  a  change. 
Other  men  could  do  well  in  this  country ;  when  they  had 
time,  they  did  do  well.  But  father  could  not.  He  came 
hither  with  wrong  views  to  get  along  well.  They  were 
placed  in  a  false  position. 

He  sent  for  Lockstock,  and  made  arrangements  to  have 
him  take  care  of  his  place  till  it  could  be  sold. 

"  Why  not  stay  with  ITS  ?"  said  Lockstock.  "  As  a  fruit 
country  it  cannot  be  excelled." 

"  I  know  that,"  said  the  doctor ;  "  but  rather  than  live 
here  and  bring  up  my  family  as  I  am  situated" — he  stopped, 
opened  his  mouth  and  shut  it  as  if  he  had  tar  between  his 
teeth — "  well,  I  don't  know  what  I'd  do." 

Lockstock  supposed  he  was  going  back  to  Ohio.  No,  sir, 
not  to  Ohio.  There  are  pretty  good  sort  of  folks  in  Ohio, 
but  their  knowledge  of  slavery  and  this  rebellion  is  theo- 
retical, not  practical.  He  was  going  to  Kansas,  where  they 
understand  slavery  from  top  to  bottom,  along  the  sides  and 
through  the  middle.  He  wanted  to  go  where  he  would  find 
nobody  that  was  for  the  Union  with  ifs  and  buts.  If  his 
son  wanted  to  go  into  the  army  he  could  go.  He  would  bid 
him  God  speed,  and  he  would  advise  him  to  get  into  the 
Seventh  Kansas  Cavalry. 

Lockstock  says  he  helped  haul  his  family  and  goods  to 
the  station.  While  they  were  waiting  for  the  train,  some 
got  talking  about  democracy,  and  the  doctor  was  drawn 
into  the  discussion.  He  attracted  attention. 

"  I  don't  want  to  hurt  any  one's  feelings,  gentlemen,"  said 
he;  "but  when  you  talk  about  the  democratic  party,  such 
as  we  used  to  have,  permit  me  to  say  that  it  died  long  ago. 
It  died  as  other  parties  died.  It  died  the  moment  it  at- 
tempted to  make  slavery  a  national  institution.  Slavery 
and  democracy  are  as  far  apai't,  are  as  unlike,  and  as  incap- 
able of  being  brought  together  as  heaven  and  hell.  You 
have  got  something  here  you  call  democracy.  Gentlemen, 


168  LIFE   IN   THE  WEST. 

this  is  the  slaveholder's  democracy.  I  say  this  after  having 
had  an  intimate  acquaintance  with  it.  It  deserves  to  be 
cast  out  and  trodden  under  foot  by  all  men.  Gentlemen, 
these  are  my  sentiments.  I  reach  them  at  as  great  a  sacrifice 
of  consistency  as  any  man  ever  made  in  reaching  anything, 
and  I  shall  live  up  to  them  with  honest  intentions,  and  with 
all  the  vigor  of  body  and  mind  which  I  possess." 


PRAIRIE  LIFE  IN  EARLY  DAYS. 

MANY  would  leave  cities  and  turn  farmers,  if  they  were 
not  afraid  of  seeing  hard  times.  Formerly  there  were 
hard  times  ;  but  let  it  not  be  thought  that  a  life  in  any  sta- 
tion can  be  one  of  ease.  Still,  there  are  great  changes.  A 
history  of  early  days  on  the  prairies,  connected  with  the  life 
of  an  individual,  will  show  what  has  been  and  what  is,  and 
it  will  give  some  idea  of  that  which  is  to  come. 

The  tinkling  of  the  cow-bell  among  the  bushes,  was  the 
first  sound  David  Ward  remembers  to  have  heard.  Feed 
had  not  started  on  the  open  prairie,  but  down  towards  the 
Fork,  protected  by  dwarf  timber,  the  blue  grass  was  grow- 
ing, and  there  the  cow  picked  away,  and  rattled  her  bell. 
The  next  thing  he  remembers  was  the  clacking  of  his  father's 
mill.  A  dam  had  been  built  across  the  Fork,  a  race  was  dug 
in  the  side  of  the  bank,  and  the  water  came  along  and  turned 
an  under-shot  wheel.  The  mill  was  built  of  logs,  twenty- 
four  feet  square  ;  there  were  two  run  of  stone,  the  rock  of 
which  had  been  brought  from  a  native  quarry ;  one  pair 
ground  corn,  and  the  other  wheat ;  and  there  was  a  little 
bolt,  six  feet  long,  run  by  wooden-cog-gearing,  which  made 
the  noise  the  miller's  little  boy  heard.  Every  Saturday, 
through  late  fall  and  early  winter  months,  the  wheat  stones 
were  devoted  to  the  grinding  of  buckwheat.  There  were  few 
mills  in  the  country,  and  some  came  with  grists  fifteen  or 
twenty  miles  ;  others  came  thirty  miles,  and  had  to  stay  all 
night. 

Generally,  people  think  milling  a  good  business,  and  it 
8  169 


170  LIFE    IN    THE   WEST. 

was  as  good  as  anything  else ;  still,  neither  grain  nor  flour 
would  bring  money  unless  taken  to  St.  Louis.  Once  a  year 
Mr.  Ward  took  a  load  of  flour,  of  about  a  thousand  pounds, 
to  that  city ;  he  was  gone  over  a  week,  and  he  got  a  cent 
and  a  half  a  pound.  He  seldom  brought  back  much  money, 
for  he  had  to  bring  a  few  dry-goods  and  groceries,  and  what 
little  he  did  bring  he  had  to  save  to  pay  on  his  place,  for  he 
had  run  in  debt  eighty  dollars  ;  then  there  were  taxes  of  one 
dollar  and  fifty  cents  every  year.  Three  years  he  had  been 
paying  the  interest  on  this  debt ;  one  year  he  paid  ten  dollars 
on  the  principal,  and  things  went  so  slow,  and  interest  eat  so 
fast,  he  thought  it  doubtful  whether  he  ever  would  get  out  of 
debt.  This  troubled  him,  and  kept  him  awake  nights.  One 
year,  a  man  in  St.  Louis  wanted  him  to  drive  in  some  fat  steers, 
as  he  was  going  to  take  a  couple  of  flat-boats  to  Xew  Orleans, 
and  he  would  pay  him  a  big  price — wrhich  was  ten  dollars  a 
head.  Mr.  Ward  thought  it  all  over ;  he  consulted  frequently 
with  his  wife,  and  finally  concluded  he  would  try  it.  It  might 
break  him  up,  if  it  did,  they  would  go  further  west,  and  squat 
on  government  land.  Going  to  his  neighbors,  he  engaged 
forty  head,  at  six  dollars  each,  to  be  paid  for  on  his  return. 
Then  he  hired  a  couple  of  young  men  at  twenty-five  cents  a 
day  and  their  board,  to  help  in  driving.  They  carried  some 
victuals  on  their  horses,  and  they  slept  at  farm-houses,  where 
they  got  breakfast.  For  this  accommodation,  for  pasturing 
the  cattle  and  a  feed  of  five  bushels  of  corn,  he  paid  from  one 
fifty  to  one  dollar  seventy-five  cents.  Once  the  herd  stam- 
peded, and  ran  seven  miles  across  the  prairie  to  a  grove,  but 
they  were  all  found  except  one  steer,  which  they  looked  for 
two  days.  Finally,  they  reached  St.  Louis,  the  cattle  were 
sold  according  to  agreement,  and  when  Mr.  Ward  got  home 
and  paid  everybody,  he  had  forty  dollars  and  a  few  cents 
clear.  Little  David  was  in  the  porch  watching  his  father 
and  mother  as  they  talked  over  their  business  ;  and  while  he 
stood  by  his  mother  looking  with  wonder  on  the  round  half 
dollars  as  his  father  counted  them  into  her  lap,  he  thought 
them  wonderful ;  for,  though  he  was  five  years  old,  he  had 


PRAIRIE    LIFE    IN    EARLY    DAYS.  1  I  1 

never  seen  money  before  then.  She  let  him  have  one  piece 
to  hold  in  his  hand,  when  it  was  doubtful  whether  his  clutch 
was  tightest  or  her  watch  closest.  The  same  day  his  father 
got  up  his  hoi*se  and  carried  off  the  money  to  pay  on  his 
land,  while  he  took  along  his  rifle,  not  knowing  but  he  might 
kill  a  buck. 

In  their  settlement  was  a  log  school-house,  where  school 
was  kept  three  months  in  the  winter  and  three  in  the  sum- 
mer, and  where,  every  other  Sunday,  was  preaching  by  a 
Presbyterian  minister.  When  he  was  absent,  the  best 
scholar,  who  sometimes  was  not  a  church-member,  read  a 
sermon  from  a  book  with  yellow-specked  edges  ;  but  it  was 
very  dry.  David  used  to  get  tired  of  sitting  on  the  slab 
seats  without  backs,  and  with  his  feet  swinging  from  the 
floor ;  but  often  his  mother  put  her  arm  around  him,  and  he 
fell  into  a  warm  sleep.  Still,  he  was  expected  to  re- 
member the  text,  for,  as  they  lived  near  the  church,  folks 
used  to  come  in  at  noon  to  get  water  and  eat  their  luncheon, 
and  then  it  was  known  who  had  only  bread  and  butter,  and 
who  sweet  cake.  Then  his  mother  would  call  him  to  her 
side  and  ask  him  what  the  text  was.  Generally,  he  could 
stammer  it  out,  and  the  women  praised  and  the  men  smiled. 
But  some  used  to  say  that  she  first  took  him  into  the  buttery 
and  repeated  it  to  him,  though  he  came  out  with  his  hair 
smoothed  down  and  a  piece  of  pie  in  his  hand.  After  a 
while,  a  Sunday-school  was  established,  and  David  had 
verses  to  leara,  and  the  teacher  gave  him  to  take  home  a 
piece  of  thin,  blue  paper,  with  a  few  verses  of  Scripture 
printed  on  it.  His  father  had  got  him  a  Xew  England 
primer  at  St.  Louis,  but  he  was  not  often  allowed  to  have  it 
for  fear  he  would  tear  it,  and  his  mother  printed  his  letters 
for  him  on  a  piece  of  writing  paper.  When  he  had  learned 
them,  she  printed  the  A  B  Abs,  and,  finally,  such  words  as 
baker  and  cider.  In  this  way  he  learned  to  read  without 
going  to  school.  Very  much  he  wanted  to  go  to  school,  but 
he  had  no  spelling  book. 

About  this  time  a  rich  relative  of  theirs  from  the  East, 


172  LIFE   IN  THE   WEST. 

came  on  horse-back  and  stayed  all  night.  He  owned  a  great 
deal  of  land  on  the  Sangamon ;  he  wore  black  clothes,  and 
he  had  a  long  watch-chain  and  a  seal,  with  a  piece  of  milky 
white  stone  in  it,  which  turned  around.  David  aat  on  his 
little  stool  in  the  corner,  and  scarcely  could  keep  his  eyes 
off  the  fine  gentleman,  who  was  his  third  cousin,  and  his 
mother's  second.  There  were  chickens  and  slap-jacks,  and 
his  mother  had  gone  to  one  of  the  neighbors  to  borrow  some 
sugar  to  put  in  the  sassafras-tea.  Almost  instinctively  David 
had  entered  into  his  parents'  feelings.  The  gentleman's 
name  was  David,  for  he  had  been  named  after  him,  and  he 
had  an  idea  there  might  be  a  present  of  some  kind.  The 
next  morning,  sure  enough,  just  as  he  was  going  away,  he 
took  out  a  quarter  of  a  dollar,  and  said  it  was  for  David. 
Mrs.  Ward  blushed,  and  said  she  could  not  think  of  taking 
it,  but  he  insisted,  and  added  that  she  could  not  complain, 
for  this  was  what  he  would  have  been  charged  if  he  had 
stopped  at  a  tavern,  so  she  consented ;  and  when  he  went 
away,  they  all  stood  a  long  time  on  the  door  step  looking 
after  him. 

A  great  question  now  arose  as  to  the  use  they  would  make 
of  the  twenty-five  cent  piece,  and  David  heard  them  talking 
about  it  by  themselves,  sometime  after  all  were  abed.  Two 
things  were  greatly  needed ;  one  was  a  spelling-book,  the 
other  a  fine  comb,  and  each  would  cost  the  same  money. 
Finally,  they  decided  in  favor  of  the  spelling-book,  for  the 
summer-school  would  commence  soon,  and  learning  must  go 
before  everything  else.  Accordingly,  his  father  got  on  his 
horse  early  in  the  morning,  and  started  for  the  county  seat, 
for  no  store  was  nearer,  and  just  before  sun-down  he  re- 
turned, bringing  the  spelling-book,  done  up  in  brown  paper. 
The  first  thing  was  to  cover  the  book  with  a  paper,  but  he 
had  a  chance  first  to  look  at  the  picture  on  the  outside ; 
then  threads  were  ran  across  to  hold  the  cover  fast,  when  it 
was  given  to  him.  He  had  seen  a  spelling-book  before,  and 
it  did  not  take  him  long  to  find  a  word  he  liked,  which  was 
"  barbarity,"  and  he  soon  spelled  it.  The  bs  rolled  so  harmo- 


PRAIRIE  LIFE   IX   EARLY   DATS.  173 

niously  with  the  rs,  that  he  thought  it  the  prettiest  word  in 
world. 

Providence  seemed  in  their  favor,  for  not  long  afterwards 
a  peddler  in  a  one-horse  wagon  wanted  to  stay  all  night, 
and  they  were  glad  to  keep  him,  for  they  meant  to  have 
some  pay.  In  the  morning  he  asked  them  how  much  was 
his  bill.  They  told  him  they  would  leave  it  entirely  to  him. 
He  said  he  generally  paid  forty  cents  in  goods,  and  twenty- 
five  cents  in  money,  though  nobody  expected  money,  it  was 
so  scarce ;  but  as  they  had  taken  such  good  care  of  him  he 
would  pay  fifty  cents.  Well,  had  he  any  fine  combs  ?  A 
plenty.  One  was  selected.  What  else  ?  She  asked  for 
jaconet  muslin.  He  showed  her  some  at  a  dollar  and  a 
half  a  yard.  She  would  take  the  rest  in  that.  Among  the 
goods  lying  on  the  table  was  a  small  piece  of  white  and 
pink  calico.  She  asked  the  price,  and  found  it  to  be  sixty 
cents  a  yard.  Thinking  he  was  going  to  get  some  money 
out  of  her,  and  that  he  would  make  profit  enough  to  pay 
twice  over  for  the  first  cost  of  the  goods  given  for  his  bill, 
which  would  give  him  a  lucky  start  for  the  day,  he  opened 
the  calico  wide  and  praised  it,  though  all  the  while  she  told 
him  not  to  do  it.  No  trouble  at  all,  she  must  look  at  it. 
She  did  look  at  it,  and  sat  down  by  the  table,  for  she  was 
tired  getting  breakfast,  having  cooked  so  many  things  ;  but 
giving  a  sigh,  she  said  she  supposed  he  would  take  nothing 
but  money.  Oh,  yes  !  he  would  take  pared  peaches  or  bees- 
wax, for  he  could  buy  goods  with  them  in  Philadelphia. 
She  said  she  had  some  of  both,  and  she  brought  them  out 
in  great  haste,  fearing  she  had  not  enough.  She  had  four 
pounds  of  beeswax,  and  only  a  pound  and  a  half  of  peaches, 
for  their  trees  had  only  began  to  bear.  Both  were  of  the 
very  first  quality.  He  would  give  her  twenty-five  cents  a 
pound  for  the  wax,  and  the  same  for  the  peaches.  She  said 
she  would  take  two  yards  of  the  calico.  The  peddler  tore 
it  off,  giving  good  measure,  and  for  what  was  coming,  he 
gave  her  three  skeins  of  white  thread,  six  needles,  and  two 
rows  of  pins. 


174  LIFE   IN   THE  WEST. 

Mr.  Ward  needed  a  jack-knife,  and  he  took  a  bushel  and 
a  half  of  wheat  to  the  county  seat,  to  a  merchant  who  had 
a  mill.  He  would  have  carried  flour,  but  he  knew  he  did 
not  make  the  best  kind,  and  thought  the  wheat  would  be 
most  acceptable.  It  was  a  warm  day,  and  he  had  to  go 
without  a  saddle,  because  the  weight  of  the  wheat  would 
hurt  it  and  worry  the  horse,  and  coming  to  the  store,  he 
took  it  off  and  carried  it  to  the  door-step.  He  asked  the 
merchant  if  he  waa  buying  wheat.  It  would  depend  on 
what  he  wanted  for  it.  He  wanted  a  jack-knife.  The 
merchant  said  jack-knives  were  too  good  property  to  let  go 
for  wheat.  That  was  bad,  he  had  brought  it  a  long  way. 
Would  he  give  salt  ?  No.  Or  tea  ?  No.  Or  Calico  ?  No. 
Or  pins,  or  needles?  No.  Well,  what  would  he  give? 
He  would  give  tobacco,  or  domestic  flannel,  or  woolen  yarn, 
or  socks,  or  whet-stones,  or  ax-helves,  or  brooms.  Mr.  Ward 
was  a  good  sort  of  man,  but  then  the  thought  rose  in  his  mind 
about  the  labor  required  to  raise  Avheat,  the  long  way  he  had 
come,  and  the  fine  clothes  the  merchants,  and  the  lawyers, 
and  the  preachers,  and  the  doctors  of  the  town  wore,  he  hesi- 
tated as  to  whether  he  would  take  domestic  flannel  or  pour 
the  wheat  in  the  street  for  the  hogs  to  eat.  Finally  he  took 
a  yard  and  a  half  of  five-quarter  flannel,  at  the  same  price 
the  merchant  paid  for  it,  which  was  25  cts.  a  yard,  and  thus 
he  got  25  cts.  a  bushel  for  his  wheat.  Then  he  wanted  to 
get  trusted  for  a  jack-knife.  The  merchant  did  not  remem- 
ber him,  and  he  did  not  know  about  it,  but  his  clerk  men- 
tioned a  circumstance,  and  the  merchant  said,  Oh  yes,  he 
had  a  pocket-mill  down  on  the  Fork.  Riding  home,  Mr. 
Ward  often  took  the  knife  out  of  his  pocket,  rubbed  it  over, 
and  hoped  it  would  prove  good  stuff.  It  proved  to  be  a  little 
better  than  iron. 

David  went  to  school,  and  in  due  time  learned  to  spell  and 
read  in  the  back  part,  but  his  mother  showed  him  much,  for 
he  always  took  his  book  home,  and  had  it  out  in  the  morning 
before  breakfast.  About  this  time  he  had  a  sister,  and  some- 
times she  wore  the  calico  dress  bought  of  the  peddler.  As 


PRAIRIE   LIFE   IN   EARLY   DAYS.  lilt 

time  passed  this  dress  grew  too  short,  when  it  was  worked 
over,  having  short  sleeves,  and  the  little  girl  wore  it  at  meet- 
ing after  she  could  walk.  All  the  women  took  particular 
notice  of  it,  for  very  few  people  were  able  to  buy  calico,  and 
little  girls  dreamed  about  it  in  their  sleep,  thinking  they  had 
such  a  one.  Alas,  this  sister  of  David's  took  sick  one  day ; 
a  doctor  was  sent  for,  he  said  she  had  a  fever,  he  prescribed 
calomel  and  jalap,  but  it  did  no  good ;  neighbors  came  in 
and  were  very  kind ;  then  the  doctor  gave  other  medicine, 
but  the  fever  went  into  her  head,  she  scarcely  knew  her 
mother,  and  at  last  the  doctor  said  she  would  die.  This  was 
in  the  fall  of  the  year.  One  day,  when  she  was  very  bad, 
her  father  brought  in  a  small  red  apple  which,  was  the  first 
that  had  grown  on  the  tree.  Before  the  little  girl  got  sick 
she  had  been  watching  this  apple  as  it  slowly  turned  red. 
They  had  seen  a  plenty  of  crab  apples  ;  there  had  been  two 
apples  in  the  house  the  year  before,  brought  from  Kas- 
kaskia  by  a  man  who  had  been  to  the  Land  Office.  She 
looked  at  the  apple  with  her  glassy,  sunken  eyes  and  almost 
smiled,  then  she  took  it  in  her  hand  and  held  it  a  long  time 
against  her  breast.  All  this  time  she  was  lying  in  the  lap 
of  a  neighbor  woman.  Xow  she  looked  at  her  mother  as  if 
she  wanted  her  to  hold  her,  and  they  carefully  laid  her  in 
her  mother's  lap.  While  they  were  moving  her  one  of  the 
women  held  her  hand  over  the  apple.  Every  body  said  that 
she  w.as  going  fast.  Her  mother  looked  at  her  a  long  time, 
then  said,  as  calmly  as  she  could,  that  she  was  going.  "  The 
Lord  hath  given,  the  Lord  taketh  away,  blessed  be  the  name 
of  the  Lord."  Then  the  child  struggled,  the  apple  rolled  on 
the  floor,  and  in  a  few  moments  she  breathed  her  last.  This, 
and  the  funeral  which  followed,  made  a  powerful  impression 
on  David's  mind,  for  he  never  had  another  sister.  Ten, 
twenty,  thirty,  more  than  forty  years  after,  the  pink  and 
white  calico  dress,  showing  the  coarse  thread  and  cheap  dye, 
lay  in  the  drawer,  and  in  a  drawer  it  will  lie  till  the  whole 
family  pass  away.  Thus,  in  those  early  days,  and  even  long 
before,  graves  were  made  and  covered  with  sod,  and  moss 


176  LIFE   IN   THE  WEST. 

grew  on  the  simple  headstone,  and  the  sun  shone  and  the 
rain  beat,  gradually  wearing  away  the  letters  of  names. 

When  farm  productions  will  not  sell  for  money,  farming 
will  be  conducted  only  with  the  view  of  supplying  food.  A 
part  of  the  crop  will  be  allowed  to  go  to  waste  if  that  which 
remains  will  supply  the  family.  Mr.  Ward  did  not  pay  much 
attention  to  farming  because  the  toll  furnished  him  bread, 
but  he  had  a  well-kept  garden,  and  a  good  sized  orchard, 
which,  being  close  to  the  timber,  was  sheltered  and  bore  well. 
They  kept  cows,  but  if  butter  brought  anything  it  did  not 
exceed  five  cents  a  pound,  and  they  had  some  sheep,  but 
how  many,  they  did  not  know  till  they  would  come  back  in 
the  fall.  After  some  years  passed  there  was  a  little  more 
money.  Settlers  brought  some,  but  the  first  real  start  was 
when  wheat  began  to  bring  forty  cents.  This  came  from  a 
demand  in  the  Southern  States,  for  there  they  could  pay  for 
wheat  because  they  were  raising  cotton,  and  they  raised  cot- 
ton because  a  man  of  the  name  of  Whitney  had  invented  a 
gin  to  take  out  the  seed,  and  they  could  sell  the  cotton  be-, 
cause  Arkwright,  Watt  and  some  others  had  perfected  en- 
gines, looms  and  spinners.  So,  you  see,  the  inventors  made 
their  influence  felt  afar  off  on  the  prairies. 

All  through  that  section  the  farmers  began  to  haul  their 
wheat  to  St.  Louis.  It  took  nearly  two  weeks  to  go  and 
come.  They  carried  raw  provisions,  which  they  cooked  by 
the  side  of  a  fallen  tree  in  a  valley,  and  they  slept  in  their 
wagons.  They  went  in  companies  of  ten,  fifteen  or  twenty 
wagons,  and  they  chose  the  fall  of  the  year,  for  then  the  roads 
were  good.  As  there  were  no  bridges  over  the  slues  it  was 
necessary  to  double  teams,  which  was  the  reason  why  they 
went  in  companies.  There  are  two  kinds  of  slues.  One  is 
when  the  prairie  is  nearly  level,  and  in  approaching,  one  has 
an  idea  that  the  ground  is  solid  for  miles.  Such  a  slue  is 
only  a  few  rods  across,  and  it  looks  like  a  umclhole  almost 
dried  up.  The  other  is  rather  a  series  of  slues,  which  extend 
across  a  bottom,  generally  on  only  one  side  of  a  stream,  and 
it  is  before  one  comes  to  the  timber.  On  reaching  the  timber 


PRAIRIE   LIFE   IN   EARLY   DAYS.  177 

the  ground  is  likely  to  be  sandy,  and  there  is  a  sandy  ridge 
bordering  the  water.  Clumps  of  very  high  grass,  and  some- 
times small  willows  grow  through  the  slues,  and  they  are  so 
near  together  that  it  is  easy  to  step  from  one  to  another. 
However,  there  are  slues  which  differ  more  or  less  from  this 
description,  but  such  are  common. 

When  a  loaded  team  comes  to  a  slue  the  horses  step  off 
and  sink  to  their  knees,  and  if  it  is  not  very  deep  or  broad, 
the  momentum  of  the  wagon  following  will  do  much  to  throw 
the  team  over  to  the  solid  ground,  when,  dripping  and  pull- 
ing slowly  and  steadily  they  will  bring  out  the  load.  But 
often  the  team  will  sink  belly  deep,  they  can  hardly  pull 
their  feet  out  of  the  thick  mud  at  the  bottom,  and  yet  they 
sink  deeper  every  moment.  When  the  team  gets  down, 
mixed  up  with  the  harness,  and  only  the  heads  are  out,  then 
the  men  unhitch  as  soon  as  possible  and  get  them  on  dry 
ground,  then  they  fasten  a  chain  to  the  end  of  the  tongue. 
Of  course  one  will  have  to  wade  in  after  the  single-trees,  and 
pick  up  pieces  of  broken  harness,  and  get  hammer  and  ax, 
and  he  will  be  muddy  and  wet. 

Our  folks  going  to  St.  Louis  would  put  two,  three,  or  even 
four  span  of  horses  to  one  wagon,  the  driver  would  get  on 
the  saddle  horse,  then  gently  drive  to  the  slue.  A  wagon 
with  twenty  bushels  will  sink  down  directly,  but  if  there  is 
team  enough  the  driver  will  make  a  rush.  Just  so  soon  as  the 
wagon,  is  in  he  cracks  his  black  whip  with  a  noise  resound- 
ing over  the  prairie,  when  the  horses  will  spring  altogether, 
while  the  rest  of  the  men,  standing  on  the  hummocks,  or 
already  crossed,  will  cry  to  the  horses  all  at  one  time,  and 
making  a  noise  equal  to  a  general  fight  on  election  day.  Be- 
ing over,  and  while  the  black  mud  still  is  running  down,  the 
horses  are  unhitched  and  taken  across  to  bring  over  the 
other  wagons. 

Sometimes,  in  crossing  the  bottom  slues,  several  horses  are 
required  ;  they  may  go  in  at  noon,  and  though  the  distance 
be  no  more  than  two  miles,  it  will  be  so  late  before  all  the 
wagons  come  up,  that  they  will  camp  for  the  night  on  the 


173  LIFE   IN   THE   WEST. 

banks  of  the  stream.  If  they  go  in  late  in  the  afternoon,  it 
will  be  nine  o'clock  before  they  get  through ;  or,  possibly,  a 
part  of  the  wagons  will  be  left  standing  till  morning.  But 
this  seldom  will  be  the  case,  except  on  account  of  accidents, 
for  as  they  know  the  roads  they  can  calculate  their  crossing- 
places  before  hand.  Their  pace  is  so  regular  and  slow,  that 
little  can  retard  them,  and  they  proceed  as  well  through  drench- 
ing rain  and  rolling  thunder  as  amid  the  gentlest  sunshine. 

Reaching  the  stream,  and  they  always  like  to  camp  near 
one,  though  a  spring  is  preferred,  they  build  fires,  make  coffee, 
fry  bacon  and  eggs,  and  if  there  is  a  farm  within  three  miles, 
boys  will  be  started  on  horses  with  jugs  to  get  milk,  and 
some  will  be  likely  to  get  whiskey.  The  horses  eat  grain 
and  cut-fodder  from  the  trough  fastened  on  the  tongue,  then, 
after  every  body  gets  tired  of  stories,  they  go  to  bed  in  the 
wagons.  They  are  stirring  early  in  the  morning  ;  the  boys, 
who  are  sleepy,  hear  the  horses  champing  Avhile  it  is  yet 
dark,  and  at  sun-rise,  breakfast  has  been  eaten  and  the  people 
in  the  farm  houses  hear  the  rolling  of  the  wagons,  the  shouts 
of  the  men  and  the  crackings  of  the  whips  as  they  cross  the 
stream,  while  the  swift  water  washes  the  mud  from  the 
the  wheels.  Having  been  swampy  on  one  side,  it  is  dry  on 
the  other,  and  the  road  follows  a  beautiful  ridge  through  a 
grove  of  sycamores,  black-walnuts  and  maples,  and  in  a  short 
time  they  come  out  on  the  rolling  prairie  with  a  grove  ten  or 
fifteen  miles  away  on  the  horizon,  and  not  a  tree  between. 

At  last  they  would  come  to  the  American  Bottom ;  the  low 
bad  places  were  corduroyed  in  that  early  day,  and,  making 
the  distance,  either  eight  or  twenty  miles,  accordingly,  as 
they  came  down  by  Alton  or  from  the  Belleville  way,  to  the 
eastern  bank  of  the  Mississippi,  with  St.  Louis  in  full  view. 
In  those  days,  this  was  already  a  great  city,  and  had  above 
3,000  inhabitants.  For  years,  wheat  had  been  selling  from 
25  to  30  cts.  a  bushel,  cash,  and  sometimes  it  must  be  part 
trade,  but  now  that  the  good  times  had  come,  it  brought 
40,  45,  and  some  days  50  cts.  Besides,  almost  every  wagon 
brought  a  barrel  or  so  of  eggs,  picked  up  in  the  neighbor- 


PBAIEIE   LIFE  IN  EARLY   DAYS.  17$» 

hood,  which  sold  from  4  to  5  cts.  a  dozen,  and  if  the  market 
was  bare,  sometimes  for  as  much  as  7  cts.  As  for  corn,  that 
did  not  pay  for  hauling,  for  though  a  good  deal  was  sold  at 
15  cts.  a  bushel,  it  was  brought  out  of  the  Illinois  river  in  flat 
boats.  This  condition  greatly  encouraged  the  fanners.  For 
with  twenty  bushels,  and  in  ten  or  twenty  days  time,  they 
could  return  home  with  a  barrel  of  salt,  a  paper  of  pins,  a 
jug  of  molasses,  a  dozen  needles,  a  pound  of  saleratus  and  a 
couple  of  darning  needles,  and  yet  have  three  or  four  dollars 
left,  which  was  enough  to  pay  the  taxes  on  the  best  farm  in 
the  country.  Nor  was  this  alL  There  was  a  growing  de- 
mand for  fat  cattle  to  send  to  New  Orleans  and  the  "West 
Indies,  and  when  a  farmer  could  turn  off  fifteen  or  twenty 
head  at  $6  each  every  year,  it  seemed  easy  for  him  to  get 
rich.  Besides  this,  another  bright  prospect  opened.  As 
many  as  four  different  drovers  had  been  buying  cattle  on  the 
upper  Sangamon,  and  from  there  through  to  the  Rock  River 
country,  which  were  for  the  Philadelphia  and  New  York 
markets,  and  though  they  did  not  pay  over  six  dollars,  still 
it  looked  as  if  there  might  be  competition.  They  drove  their 
cattle  through  Indiana  into  Ohio  till  they  struck  the  new 
National  Pike,  which  they  followed  till  they  reached  tide 
water  at  Baltimore,  or,  they  bore  higher  up,  passing  through 
Pittsburgh,  thence  by  Strausburgh  and  Harrisburgh,  whence 
they  made  Philadelphia;  or  crossing  through  Jersey  they 
reached  New  York,  which  made  a  tolerable  long  trip.  They 
began  to  get  their  droves  together  in  May ;  by  the  first  of 
June  they  were  all  branded,  when  they  started,  and  they  got 
through  by  the  middle  of  August.  After  selling  out,  they 
brought  their  saddle  bags  full  of  dry  goods  and  notions,  and 
starting  back  they  returned  early  in  October,  and  were  ready 
to  make  arrangements  for  the  next  year.  Most  of  the  drovers 
made  money,  and  as  they  continued  the  business,  the  price 
of  cattle  rose  to  $9,  then  to  $10,  and  in  a  few  years  to  $11 
and  $11.50  a  head.  In  addition,  they  bought  a  few  horses, 
for  all  the  hands  rode,  but  this  soon  became  a  business  by 
itself.  The  price  of  a  young,  well-broken  horse  rose  from 


180  LIFE  IN  THE  WEST. 

$25  to  835  and  $40.  A  story  went  the  rounds  of  a  span  of 
well-matched,  large  and  very  beautiful  horses  being  sold  at 
Jacksonville  for  $120.  They  were  said  to  be  for  a  rich 
Englishman.  Of  course  he  lived  in  Philadelphia,  for  nobody 
in  New  York  could  be  expected  to  have  so  much  money. 

The  next  improvement  was  in  the  opening  of  the  Erie 
canal,  and  afterwards  of  the  Ohio  canal.  But  this  could  not 
affect  the  prairie  region  till  vessels  could  be  built  on  the 
Lakes,  so  as  to  come  around  into  Lake  Michigan  and  land  at 
some  port.  After  they  were  built,  it  was  some  time  before 
any  sailed  past  Cleveland  and  Detroit,  though  every  year 
one  went  to  the  military  post  at  Mackinaw  and  another  to 
Green  Bay  and  some  other  stations.  At  last  a  vessel  loaded 
with  immigrants  for  the  Rock  River  country  came  down 
and  landed  at  Fort  Dearborn.  As  it  sailed  from  Buffalo,  and 
had  a  pleasant  voyage,  the  way  was  open  for  others,  and  the 
steamer  Enterprise,  built  at  Black  Rock,  made  a  successful 
voyage  to  the  Fort.  About  this  time  a  few  land  speculators 
took  it  into  their  heads  that  they  might  do  well  in  starting 
a  village  around  the  Fort,  which  they  did,  and  they  gave  it 
the  name  of  Chicago.  The  great  obstacle  was  the  bad  roads 
leading  into  the  country,  and  which  required  several  years 
to  overcome.  When  the  Illinois  Canal  was  built  then  you 
began  to  hear  of  Chicago.  Meanwhile  they  went  on  in  the 
old  way  in  the  interior,  and  money  became  more  plentiful, 
still,  it  was  only  by  slow  degrees.  Without  making  many 
words  in  telling  why  times  were  so  hard,  it  is  sufficient  to 
say  in  general,  that  the  principal  cause  of  the  scarcity  of 
money  lay  in  the  fact  that  almost  every  kind  of  goods 
were  made  in  England,  or  some  part  of  Europe,  grain  was 
not  wanted,  nor  could  it  be  sent,  and  the  only  industry  in 
demand  was  in  some  of  the  lowest  conditions  of  life.  It  is 
true  they  were  doing  a  little  at  Pittsburgh,  but  their  glass 
was  green,  tumblers  cracked  if  water  was  a  little  warm,  and 
their  nails  snapped  if  they  were  a  little  cold.  They  made 
some  butts  and  screws,  a  few  door-latches  and  padlocks,  but 
the  supply  was  not  large, 


PRAIRIE   LIFE   IN   EARLY   DAY.  181 

David  Ward  grew  up  while  these  improvements  were  go- 
ing on.  He  went  to  school  summer  and  winter,  and  as  his 
father  was  one  of  the  wealthiest  men  in  the  country,  he 
thought  he  would  give  his  son  a  liberal  education  and  make 
a  lawyer  of  him.  The  first  step  in  this  direction  was  in  his 
fourteenth  yeai-,  when  his  father  got  him  a  geography  and 
atlas.  This  was  of  an  entirely  new  kind,  for  no  other  geog- 
raphy had  an  atlas,  and  of  course  one  with  such  a  help  would 
be  certain  to  get  a  good  education.  David  studied  his  geog- 
raphy thoroughly,  and  at  the  same  time  went  a  part  of  the 
way  through  the  arithmetic ;  perhaps  he  would  have  gone 
farther  had  the  teacher  made  proper  efforts.  One  Saturday 
he  went  five  miles  across  the  prairie  to  borrow  Riley's  Ship- 
wreck; and  about  this  time  the  American  Sunday  School 
Union  sent  out  a  series  of  nice  books,  among  which  were 
Henry  and  his  Bearer,  Hedge  of  Thorns,  and  Dairyman's 
Daughter.  All  these  books  make  life  a  tough  matter.  Some- 
times David  helped  his  father  in  the  mill,  or  worked  in  the 
garden ;  he  regularly  milked  the  cows  and  churned,  but  as 
for  continued  work,  it  was  not  expected  of  him  since  he  was 
to  be  a  scholar.  Nor  did  any  of  the  people  hurt  themselves 
by  work,  for  they  had  no  inducements,  and  there  were  no  such 
snug  farms  as  we  see  in  these  days. 

His  mother  cooked  victuals  neatly,  though  she  had  sour 
bread  rather  often ;  she  spun  flax  wool  and  made  cloth,  and 
as  she  had  no  girls  she  had  her  boys  help  her,  and  often  they 
washed  dishes  and  mopped  the  floor. 

When  David  was  seventeen  his  father  let  him  go  with 
some  neighbors  on  a  flat-boat  out  of  the  Illinois  down  to 
New  Orleans.  They  started  in  the  spring,  and  had  corn 
mostly  for  lading,  but  in  addition  they  took  on  two  hundred 
barrels  of  eggs  and  several  hundred  coops  of  poultry.  He 
came  back  in  the  fall,  much  taller,  dressed  in  new  store-clothes 
of  poor  quality,  with  two  dollars  in  money',  and  a  swagger 
which  he  thought  becoming.  In  addition,  he  had  learned  to 
smoke.  He  did  not  go  qiiite  to  New  Orleans,  for  the  load 
was  sold  out  to  a  speculator  on  the  Coast.  That  winter  they 


182  LIFE  IN  THE   WEST. 

had  a  better  school  than  common,  for  the  teacher  made  his 
advanced  scholars  write  compositions,  which  did  David  much 
good,  and  he  wrote  several  descriptions  which  made  his  folks 
think  he  would  make  a  fine  writer.  They  had  a  debating 
school  where  they  discussed  little  questions  about  anticipa- 
tion, and  great  ones,  about  innate  ideas. 

Being  now  eighteen,  he  must  study  law.  Arrangements 
were  made  with  a  lawyer  at  the  county  seat,  who  was  to  let 
him  have  books,  and  would  hear  him  recite  once  a  week. 
First  he  had  Blackstone,  which  he  read  during  the  summer 
in  the  parlor ;  he  smoked  as  much  as  he  read.  His  mother 
kept  him  in  shirts  and  pies,  but  as  his  mind  was  without 
training,  a  treatise  of  this  kind  was  very  dry,  and  he  made 
little  progress.  Still,  he  recited,  and  during  court  had  a  seat 
inside  of  the  bar,  where  he  listened  to  the  proceedings.  The 
people  thought  well  of  him,  though  some  doubted  whether 
he  would  set  the  Mississippi  on  fire.  After  a  little,  he  had  a 
case  to  pettifog  before  a  Justice  of  the  Peace,  and  another 
law  student  to  oppose  him.  Having  no  idea  he  could  not 
do  much,  moreover,  it  was  only  an  action  for  debt  of  less 
than  two  dollars.  Then  came  two  witnesses,  who  were  ex- 
amined, and  when  it  came  to  David's  turn  to  speak,  he  said 
some  poor  little  things  in  a  broken  way,  and  with  weak  ges- 
tures, then  sat  down,  while  the  sweat  ran  into  his  stockings. 
He  never  felt  more  ashamed  in  his  life.  Still,  it  did  him  some 
good  to  learn  that  he  gained  the  case,  but  according  to  the 
testimony  the  Justice  could  not  have  decided  otherwise. 
After  this  he  had  a  case  of  some  consequence,  but  he  did  so 
badly,  and,  in  particular,  made  such  blunders  in  reading  the 
statute,  when  he  mistook  one  word  for  another,  making  him- 
self ridiculous,  that  when  his  folks  heard  of  it  they  were 
mortified  to  death.  Clearly  enough  their  boy  was  not  so 
smart  as  they  had  supposed. 

David  recited  to  the  lawyer  once  more ;  the  young  folks  at 
the  county  seat  gave  him  some  cuts,  but  he  took  home,  Chitty 
on  Contracts,  when  finding  it  drier  than  the  other  books,  he 
took  it  back  and  told  the  lawyer  his  health  was  so  poor  he 


PRAIRIE   LIFE   IX   EARLY   DAYS.  183 

would  have  to  give  up  study.  Then  his  father  put  him  to 
work  snugly,  but  let  him  go  to  school  a  part  of  the  winter. 
He  and  his  father  talked  his  case  over  quite  often,  and  it  was 
finally  concluded  that  he  ought  to  go  to  some  good  school. 
At  first  Alton  was  thought  of,  but  his  mother  said  if  he  could 
go  back  East  and  board  with  her  brother  and  attend  the 
Academy,  he  would  learn  something.  This  would  cost  a 
good  deal ;  the  plan  was  adopted.  Teams  had  begun  to  take 
grain  to  Chicago,  he  went  in  company  with  one  of  these ; 
then  took  a  boat  to  Buffalo,  and  thence,  by  canal,  he  reached 
Albany,  and  from  this  place  he  walked  to  his  uncle's.  M  rs. 
Ward  was  pretty  sharp  in  getting  this  plan  carried  out,  for 
she  had  learned  that  her  son  had  got  the  mitten  twice  during 
the  winter,  and  as  much  tittering  was  going  on,  she  wished 
to  have  him  in  some  place  where  he  could  take  a  fresh  start. 
David's  uncle  lived  about  a  mile  from  a  pretty  village, 
where  were  some  paper  mills  and  other  factories,  and  there 
were  two  churches  and  an  academy.  One  part  of  the  farm 
was  in  the  valley,  the  other  part  ran  up  a  high  hill  where  the 
cattle  were  pastured  in  summer,  and  where  wood  wras  cut  in 
the  winter.  In  the  house  there  was  abundance,  and  things 
were  convenient.  After  David  had  got  through  bragging 
about  the  West  and  running  down  the  East,  he  commenced 
going  to  school  He  was  to  pay  a  dollar  a  week  for  his 
board,  and  was  to  help  do  chores  morning  and  evening. 
Among  the  studies  he  took  up  was  Latin  Grammar,  but  he 
found  it  so  hard  he  wrote  some  words  on  his  fingers.  The 
young  folks  liked  him  very  well,  though  they  disliked  his 
habit  of  smoking,  and  ridiculed  him  for  it,  but  as  his  uncle's 
family  was  quite  respectable,  and  as  his  father  had  three 
hundred  and  twenty  acres  of  land,  he  took  a  fair  stand  and 
he  improved  in  his  behavior.  He  attended  parties  and  the 
meetings  of  young  people,  but  perhaps  nothing  helped  him 
more  than  to  go  home  with  some  of  the  girls.  Though  the 
society  was  not  fashionable,  still  there  were  comfortable 
houses  and  good  furniture  ;  all  the  young  folks  were  intelli- 
gent, while  the  religious  and  missionary  spirit  prevailed. 


184  LIFE   IN   THE    WEST. 

David  took  a  fancy  to  a  nice  girl  nearly  his  own  age;  he 
went  home  with  her  several  times,  then  he  fell  in  love  with 
her,  when  he  asked  her  to  sit  up  with  him.  This  she  refused, 
because  he  was  so  young,  for  though  she  did  not  dislike  him, 
she  did  not  want  him  to  get  attached  to  her,  for  fear  his 
uncle  and  parents  would  not  like  it,  and  for  fear  it  might 
prevent  her  from  getting  somebody  better.  More  than  this, 
Flora  did  not  know  much  about  him,  while  there  were  a 
plenty  whom  she  did  know,  and  she  had  hopes  of  becoming 
a  missionary's  wife,  and  of  going  to  Asia  to  teach  the  heathen. 
At  that  time  the  biographies  of  Harriet  Newell  and  the  first 
Mrs.  Judson  were  in  the  hands  of  all  the  young  people,  and 
were  read  with  many  tears.  Flora  Miller's  parents  were  in 
fair  circumstances,  they  had  an  eighty-acre  farm,  a  good  part 
on  the  hills,  but  it  was  excellent  for  grass ;  they  had  a  large 
old  orchard,  and  currants  and  quinces  in  abundance,  and 
lofty  pear  trees.  While  they  had  a  plenty,  they  had  no 
spare  means,  and  all  their  children  had  to  be  industrious. 
Flora  had  been  well  educated,  she  had  taught  school  one 
summer,  and  she  went  to  the  Academy  in  winter.  Besides 
going  home  with  her  after  evening  meetings,  and  leaving 
her  at  the  gate,  he  went  several  Saturdays  to  see  her  brothers, 
but  they  were  busy  or  absent,  and  though  Flora  and  her 
sisters  had  a  fire  made  in  the  parlor  and  invited  him  in,  they 
made  no  great  fuss  about  him,  and  only  had  a  boiled  dinner. 
Seeing  he  could  make  no  headway,  he  gave  it  up ;  though 
he  congratulated  himself  on  having  a  lock  of  her  hair.  Still 
she  treated  him  kindly,  and  sometimes  she  smiled  on  him 
so  sweetly  he  almost  thought  she  meant  something.  After- 
wards, when  he  got  much  better  acquainted  with  her,  she 
said  it  was  a  way  she  had. 

The  next  fall  David's  father  wrote  to  him  to  come  home, 
because  he  could  not  afford  to  pay  out  so  much  money.  It 
seems  that  David  had  Avritten  for  three  dollars  extra  to  buy 
a  pair  of  pantaloons,  because  those  he  had  were  too  short. 
He  had  been  mortified  about  this,  and  also  about  the  short- 
ness of  his  coat  sleeves,  but  his  aunt  turned  doAvn  the  hem 


PRAIPJE   LIFE   IX   EARLY   DAYS.  185 

and  put  on  a  band  of  cotton  velvet.  He  wanted  to  stay,  but 
there  was  no  help  for  it,  and  he  went  back  through  the  canal 
and  up  the  lakes  the  way  he  came.  On  leaving  he  did  not 
see  Flora,  because  she  was  away  with  some  young  folks  on 
a  ride,  but  he  sent  her  a  piece  of  poetry  he  had  written,  and 
it  had  the  word  dart  in  it.  When  he  started  his  folks  gave 
him  a  box  of  cake  to  eat  on  the  way,  which  was  very  good ; 
but  by  the  time  he  got  to  Rochester  it  was  mouldy,  and 
when  he  was  on  the  lake  he  threw  it  overboard.  This,  or 
something  else,  made  him  sea-sick.  Riding  in  the  wagons 
he  recovered  a  little,  and  he  was  tolerably  well  a  few  days 
after  he  got  home ;  but  then  he  was  taken  sick,  and  he  had 
a  doctor  several  weeks,  who  gave  him  calomel  and  jalap, 
and  opium,  and  one  trash  and  another,  till  it  seemed  as  if  he 
certainly  would  die.  For  weeks  he  used  to  lie  looking  out 
of  the  open  window,  watching  the  trees  on  the  other  side  of 
the  Fork,  and  he  thought  the  Hudson  River  ran  in  the  bot- 
tom, and  that  only  a  day's  journey  beyond  was  the  green 
valley,  where  he  had  friends.  After  the  weather  got  quite 
cold  he  grew  better,  and  every  day  he  used  to  pull  out  hands- 
ful  of  hair,  till  at  last  he  looked  as  if  he  was  forty  years  old. 
Then  his  father  wanted  him  to  take  a  school,  but  he  said 
he  was  not  competent.  This  put  his  father  out  of  temper. 
To  think  of  having  been  to  school  for  years,  of  having  stu- 
died law,  and  then  of  having  attended  a  high  school  in  the 
east,  and  not  be  able  to  teach  a  common  school,  was  absurd. 
What  did  he  expect  would  become  of  him  ?  There  were  some 
hard  words.  David  cried  a  little  and  his  mother  felt  sorry 
for  him.  One  day,  however,  he  had  an  application,  for  the 
people  concluded  he  had  a  finished  education  by  this  time, 
and  he  agreed  to  teach  for  $10  a  month.  His  mother  had 
a  little  money ;  she  bought  him  a  pair  of  store  pantaloons, 
and  made  him  some  drawers  and  shirts.  He  got  along  bet- 
ter than  he  expected ;  he  boarded  around  and  had  good 
victuals,  and  he  slept  in  spare  beds.  Only  two  of  his  scho- 
lars were  so  advanced  in  arithmetic  as  to  trouble  him,  for 
they  had  a  taste  for  the  business,  and  did  not  want  to  study 


186  LIFE   IN   THE   WEST. 

anything  else.  For  three  or  four  winters  they  had  been  try- 
ing to  go  through  the  book,  but  the  teachers  had  discour- 
aged them,  first  by  making  them  go  back  and  commit  all 
the  rules  and  little  quirks,  then  by  neglecting  them  day 
after  day,  chiefly,  as  they  said,  for  want  of  time  to  attend  to 
them.  The  best  that  David  could  do  was  to  treat  them  the 
same  way,  though  he  was  forced  to  do  some  sums  which  put 
him  to  his  wits,  and  he  used  to  go  to  the  school  house  early 
in  the  morning  and  cypher  ahead  of  them,  by  which  means 
he  himself  learned  a  great  deal,  and  he  made  out  to  worry 
through  the  winter  without  actually  disgracing  himself. 

When  his  school  was  out,  he  thought  he  would  go  South 
and  get  rich  by  teaching  in  planters'  families.  Putting  his 
clothes  in  a  long  carpet  sack,  which  almost  touched  the 
ground  when  he  walked,  he  started  for  the  Wabash ;  worked 
his  passage  on  a  flat-boat  into  the  Ohio,  then  went  up  to 
Louisville  on  a  steamer.  After  staying  here  until  his  money 
was  nearly  gone,  and  seeing  no  chance,  he  left  the  city  on 
foot  and  traveled  three  days  to  the  South.  Here  he  took  a 
school  by  subscription.  About  thirty  signed  at  S3  a  scholar, 
and  he  had  to  pay  a  dollar  and  a  quarter  for  board.  In  a 
few  weeks  a  blacksmith,  who  thought  he  did  not  treat  his 
daughter  well,  was  going  to  flog  him ;  he  shook  his  big  fist 
in  his  face,  then  told  him  that  as  he  had  proved  himself  a 
coward,  he  might  go.  One  night  he  was  sitting  up  in  the 
back  porch  with,  a  black-eyed  young  lady,  when  a  little  diffi- 
culty arose,  and  he  went  off"  to  bed.  Then  the  white  ser- 
vant girl,  who  was  quite  smart,  edged  around  him  till  she 
got  him  to  walk  out  with  her,  and  he  had  trouble  in  getting 
rid  of  her.  Still,  the  other  girl  thought  well  of  him,  and 
wrote  him  a  note  about  the  scarcity  of  friends  and  the 
value  of  love,  but  some  of  the  words  were  badly  spelled,  and 
he  did  not  like  it,  for  he  was  beginning  to  be  a  critic. 

When  his  term  was  out  he  thought  he  would  go  still  fur- 
ther South  where  the  planters  were  richer,  and  he  undertook 
to  get  his  pay.  Many  paid  without  grumbling,  but  one  man 
refused  to  pay  anything  but  a  fiddle,  which  he  said  David 


PRAIRIE  LIFE   IN   EARLY   DAYS.  187 

bad  agreed  to  take.  The  truth  was  David  had  borrowed  it 
thinking  he  could  play,  but  he  could  do  nothing  of  the  kind, 
and  though  he  had  kept  it  several  weeks,  he  sent  it  back. 
Feeling  pretty  smart,  he  sued  the  man.  The  whole  county 
came  to  the  trial,  and  there  was  a  row  of  horses  hitched  to 
the  fence  from  the  store  clean  round  to  the  tavern.  The  man 
proved  by  one  of  his  boys  that  David  agreed  to  give  five 
dollars  for  the  fiddle,  and  he  could  be  made  to  say  nothing 
else,  when  the  justice  gave  judgment  accordingly,  which, 
with  the  costs,  David  paid  on  the  spot.  Then  there  were 
some  poor  men  who  could  pay  nothing,  and  when  he  left  he 
did  not  have  much  money.  However,  he  paid  ten  dollars 
for  a  passage  in  the  stage  to  Nashville,  where  he  stayed  seve- 
ral weeks,  but  finding  nothing  to  do  he  started  for  Memphis 
on  foot.  The  planters  along  the  road  never  employed  teach- 
ers in  the  house,  but  they  told  him  he  would  get  a  chance  in 
the  lower  country.  He  came  pretty  near  getting  schools 
several  times,  and  he  stopped  a  day  or  so  and  talked  about 
it,  and  in  one  place  said  he  could  teach  Hebrew,  but  finally 
he  went  on,  till  at  last  his  money  was  all  gone  and  still  he 
was  more  than  fifty  miles  from  Memphis.  Of  course  he  had 
to  beg ;  some  would  give  him  victuals  and  some  not,  but  he 
always  got  a  place  to  stay  over  night.  Sometimes  he  could 
overhear  the  folks  talk  about  him.  Why  didn't  he  go  to 
work  ?  Another  would  hang  himself  before  he  would  beg. 
Another  said  he  ought  to  be  at  home ;  there  could  not  be 
anything  bad  about  him,  because  he  looked  so  fresh  and  in- 
nocent. Everywhere  they  noticed  his  fresh,  blushing  face. 
At  one  place  he  had  slept  on  some  rags  with  a  child,  whether 
black  or  white  he  did  not  know,  because  it  was  in  a  dark 
hole ;  the  folks  would  give  him  no  bivakfast  and  he  walked 
on.  By  this  time  he  had  sold  some  of  his  clothes  and  his 
carpet  sack,  and  he  carried  what  few  things  he  had  left  tied 
up  in  a  red  silk  pocket  handkerchief.  Alt  he  had  in  his 
pocket-book  was  a  piece  of  writing  paper,  which  held  a  small 
lock  of  hair.  The  morning  was  cold,  for  it  was  frosty,  and 
his  clothes  were  thin.  After  a  little,  as  he  was  going  through 


188  LIFE  IN  THE   WEST. 

the  woods,  he  found  a  piece  of  corncake  that  sparkled  with 
frost.  Some  negro  had  dropped  it,  and  though  it  tasted 
sweet,  there  was  not  enough  of  it.  As  he  could  get  no  din- 
ner, lie  picked  up  an  ear  of  corn  that  had  fallen  out  of  a 
wagon ;  it  had  some  good  but  more  of  a  raw  taste,  and  in- 
stead of  setting  well,  it  griped  him.  All  this  time  he  was 
passing  through  a  sandy  valley ;  the  farms  were  small,  and 
the  country  had  a  poor  look.  Coming  out  of  the  valley 
about  sundown,  he  found  there  was  a  river  to  cross,  and  as 
there  was  a  house  near  by,  he  went  in  and  wanted  to  stay  all 
night.  When  the  man  found  out  he  had  no  money  he  told 
a  negro  to  take  him  across  on  a  horse.  Going  iip  the  hill  as 
fast  as  he  could,  he  heard  the  barking  of  dogs  on  the  level, 
and  finding  a  lane  he  turned  in  and  soon  reached  a  good 
farm-house.  The  dogs  were  so  bad  he  had  to  get  on  the 
fence,  when  an  old  man  came  out  with  a  candle  in  his  hand. 
Then  a  girl  drove  off  the  dogs  and  he  went  in.  The  folks 
were  Quakers,  and  when  they  heard  he  had  no  money,  they 
asked  him  if  he  wanted  supper,  and  he  said  he  did.  When 
supper  was  ready  he  went  with  eight  or  ten  young  people 
into  the  back  kitchen,  and  they  had  a  plenty  to  eat.  There 
were  sweet  potatoes,  corn  bread,  fat  beef  and  stewed  peaches, 
and  when  they  got  most  through  one  of  the  girls  brought  in 
some  warm  biscuit  and  a  plate  of  honey,  though  there  was 
no  butter.  After  supper  David  sat  by  the  fire  and  talked 
with  the  old  Quaker  woman.  She  got  his  story  out  of  him. 
They  put  him  up  in  the  loft  to  sleep,  where  a  bed-quilt  hung 
before  the  bed,  and  he  slept  till  the  sun  came  in  at  a  little 
window.  After  he  had  breakfast,  and  while  he  was  getting 
ready  to  start,  and  was  thinking,  the  mother,  who  was 
heeling  a  pair  of  stockings,  told  him  to  wait  a  little,  for  she 
was  going  to  make  him  a  present.  He  wanted  a  pair  of 
stockings,  did  he  not?  He  said  he  did.  When  he  Avas 
taking  off  his  shoes,  the  woman  told  a  girl  to  bring  a  foot 
tub  of  water,  and  he  should  wash  his  feet.  After  they  were 
washed  he  was  handed  a  towel,  and  the  Quaker  woman 
helped  Avipe  his  feet,  and,  handing  him  the  stockings  half 


PRAIRIE   LIFE   IN   EARLY   DAYS.  189 

turned,  he  put  them  on.  She  told  him  he  ought  to  stop 
every  day  at  a  brook  and  wash  his  feet,  and  it  would 
help  the  skin  to  grow  over.  She  said  some  other  things,  the 
best  of  which  was  he  ought  to  get  back  to  his  folks,  for  his 
mother  was  greatly  concerned  about  hira.  They  treated 
him  better  here  than  at  any  other  place. 

Finally,  he  stopped  over  night,  where  it  was  only  eight 
miles  from  Memphis.  The  planter  had  two  slaves,  but  he 
was  kind-hearted,  and  he  invited  him  to  the  table.  Where 
he  stayed  the  night  before,  his  victuals  were  brought  on  a  plate. 
At  this  last  place  they  had  butter.  In  the  morning  the 
man  offered  David  a  couple  of  dollars,  but  he  thanked  him, 
and  said  he  had  a  friend  in  Memphis  who  would  help  him. 
It  was  Sunday,  and  while  he  was  walking  along  he  heard  a 
sharp  scream  from  a  bird  among  the  bushes.  Turning  in, 
he  saw  a  young  able-bodied  negro  holding  a  blue  jay  by  its 
wings.  They  talked  together,  and  the  negro  wanted  to  buy 
some  clothes,  but  what  David  showed  him  were  not  good 
enough.  David  asked  him  if  he  knew  where  Canada  was ; 
he  said  he  did,  and  he  pointed  to  the  north.  About  noon 
he  got  into  Memphis. 

This  was  quite  a  small  place  then,  and  most  of  the  town 
was  along  the  bluff  in  one  street,  facing  the  river.  Across 
the  river  it  was  all  woods,  and  the  ground  was  low.  After- 
dinner-time,  he  watched  the  landlord,  and  when  he  was 
going  through  the  hall,  he  asked  him  if  he  would  give  him 
something  to  eat.  He  said  he  would,  and  went  back  into 
the  long  dining-hall  and  gave  orders  to  a  black  man.  What 
he  had  tasted  very  good.  There  was  cold  fresh  beef,  good 
butter,  pickles  and  warm  hop-rising  bread.  The  landlord 
kept  him  all  night,  and  giving  him  his  breakfast  Avith  the 
rest  of  the  boarders,  told  him  he  had  done  his  share.  David 
thought  he  had  better  try  and  get  to  New  Orleans,  for  he 
saw  no  other  taverns,  and  his  clothes  were  so  poor  he  had 
no  ambition  to  try  to  get  a  situation ;  and  he  stood  on  the 
bank  watching  for  a  boat.  About  two  o'clock  as  he  stood 
there,  a  waiter  from  the  hotel  told  him  to  come  to  dinner. 


190  LIFE   IN   THE   WEST. 

Towards  night  a  boat  came  down  and  he  got  aboard,  and 
went  into  the  steerage  among  as  many  as  a  hundred  coarse 
men  and  women.  His  shoes  were  run  down,  his  coat  was 
rusty,  and  as  he  sat  on  some  kind  of  a  seat  by  the  large  stove 
warming  himself,  ho  looked  bad.  When  the  clerk  came 
among  them  with  his  lantern,  he  and  two  or  three  more 
slipped  back  around  the  cotton  bales  towards  the  wheel- 
house  and  escaped.  He  slept  in  a  berth  on  some  greasy 
rags,  but  at  midnight  he  was  pulled  out  by  one  of  the  hands, 
when  he  sat  by  the  stove  a  spell,  feeling  chilly  enough,  for 
the  wind  came  in  astern ;  but  at  last,  he  lay  down  on  the 
floor,  and,  with  his  bundle  under  his  head,  slept. 

For  two  days  he  managed  to  keep  out  of  the  clerk's  sight, 
but  at  last  he  came  up  on  a  sudden  and  asked  for  his  ticket. 
He  said  he  had  none.  The  clerk  jerked  him  out  into  the 
light  and  looked  him  all  ovei\  David  trembled  from  head 
to  foot,  for  he  expected  to  be  shot.  Then  the  clerk  said  he 
must  "wood."  The  boat  was  just  then  rounding-to  at  a 
wood-pile,  and  he  went  out  and  helped  get  in  cord-wood. 
A  few  hours  after  the  boat  came  to  Yicksburg,  where  the 
clerk  told  him  to  go  ashore. 

David  sat  on  the  stoop  of  a  grocery  with  his  bundle  by 
his  side.  He  had  failed  to  get  a  place  to  lodge  in,  though 
he  was  told  he  could  get  good  wages  by  working  on  the 
levee  embankment.  That  night  he  slept  on  some  cotton 
bales.  Once  or  twice  he  awoke  and  saw  the  stars  shining. 
The  weather  was  warm,  for  he  was  getting  far  south. 

Without  supper,  breakfast,  or  dinner ;  with  only  scraps  for 
several  days,  he  was  hungry.  He  went  out  among  the  hills 
where  there  was  some  cultivation,  and  found  turnips  and  per- 
simmons. When  he  returned,  a  boat  was  taking  in  cotton. 
The  bales  were  rolled  down  the  hill,  guided  and  held  back 
by  hooks  in  the  hands  of  the  negroes.  He  went  up  to  the 
second  mate  and  got  permission  to  work  his  passage  to  Xew 
Orleans.  Going  into  the  steerage  to  find  a  corner  where  he 
could  put  his  bundle,  he  did  not  see  that  the  hatch  was  open, 
for  it  was  dark  in  there,  and  he  fell  head  foremost,  as  much 


PRAIRIE   LIFE   IN   EARLY   DAYS.  191 

as  twelve  feet,  among  some  goods.  He  was  picked  up  by 
some  men  who  were  there  with  a  lamp,  and  hoisted  out. 
He  ahvays  wondered  that  he  was  not  killed,  but  except 
bruises  on  his  shoulder  he  was  not  much  hurt.  When  the 
boat  started  the  hands  had  supper,  and  one  of  them  took 
him  into  his  mess.  The  cook  brought  a  large  pot  of  coffee,  a 
bucket  of  sugar,  and  several  pieces  of  meat,  beans  and  pota- 
toes. In  some  of  the  pans  were  bits  of  chicken,  beefsteak, 
pie  and  cake — the  leavings  of  the  cabin  passengers — vwhich 
the  men  picked  out  with  their  fingers,  for  they  were  not 
furnished  with  knife,  spoon  or  fork,  neither  with  plates  or 
cups.  Each  man  had  his  own  cup  which  he  kept  in  his 
chest,  and  he  used  his  pocket-knife.  The  pans  were  placed 
on  a  board  laid  on  barrels  near  the  engine.  With  some 
difficulty  David  borrowed  a  cup  of  the  cook  to  hold  his 
coffee.  The  men  were  rough  and  swore  dreadfully,  but 
they  treated  him  kindly,  and  one  or  two  wanted  to  know 
what  he  was  doing  there. 

After  David  began  to  work  for  his  passage,  and  was  not 
afraid  of  the  clerk,  and  after  he  got  enough  to  eat,  he  took  more 
notice  of  things,  and  when  off  watch,  he  asked  to  sit  on  the 
hurricane-deck  and  view  the  scenery.  The  cabin  passengers 
came  there  also,  and  there  were  some  young  ladies,  dressed 
finely.  They  were  all  very  merry,  and  he  often  heard  what 
they  said,  but  it  amounted  to  little.  One  of  these  ladies 
was  in  the  pilot-house,  and  looking  down  out  of  the  window 
she  saw  David  take  out  his  pocket-book,  and  opening  a  little 
paper  unwind  a  lock  of  black  hair.  She  could  not  help  feel- 
ing interested  in  him,  and  she  concluded  it  was  the  hair  of 
his  girl  who  was  living  somewhere  in  Arkansas.  After- 
wards, when  she  could  look  at  him  in  his  face,  she  doubted 
about  his  living  in  Arkansas — perhaps  he  belonged  to  Ken- 
tucky. His  work  was  not  very  hard,  still  they  had  some 
heavy  freight  to  unload,  and  one  night  it  took  all  hands 
several  hours  to  get  out  some  long  heavy  boxes,  and  two 
pair  of  screws,  either  for  a  cotton-press  or  sugar-mill,  which 
had  to  be  got  seven  or  eight  feet  up  the  bank,  and  the  sharp 


192  LIFE   IN   THE  WEST. 

corners  of  the  threads  of  the  screws  cut  his  fingers.  These 
screws  were  turned  out  of  iron,  and  wei'e  as  much  as  eight 
feet  long  and  six  inches  in  diameter.  At  Grand  Gulf  the 
river  opens  like  a  lake,  and  when  they  reached  the  Coast  the 
green  trees  and  the  fine  plantations  made  a  beautiful  scene. 
At  nine  o'clock  in  the  morning  they  passed  Red  Church, 
when  David  borrowed  a  razor,  and,  for  the  first  time,  shaved 
himself,  and  a  little  after  noon  the  boat  made  her  landing  at 
New  Orleans. 

David  had  sold  a  few  more  things,  and  had  only  two  shirts 
left,  and  having  a  little  money  he  put  up  at  a  lodging-house 
on  the  levee.  The  beds  were  cots  with  canvass  bottoms, 
straw  pillows,  and  a  woolen  blanket.  A  couple  of  men 
sleeping  close  to  him,  for  the  beds  were  no  more  than  three 
feet  apart,  talked  scandalously  about  women.  After  he  got 
some  breakfast  his  money  was  gone.  That  night  he  sat 
several  hours  with  some  negro  watchmen  who  had  a  fire. 
About  midnight  they  gave  him  some  fish,  a  part  of  which  he 
ate,  though  it  wanted  salt,  and  the  other  part  he  threw  away, 
because  something  stretched  out  like  a  string.  The  next 
day  he  came  across  an  acquaintance  who  had  come  down  on 
a  flat-boat  and  was  paid  off,  and  he  was  living  at  what  he 
called  a  first  class  boarding-house.  At  night  he  took  David 
thither  to  sleep,  but  as  the  house  was  locked,  they  had  to 
climb  over  a  high  board  fence,  when  they  went  in  the  back 
way.  There  seemed  to  be  no  bed  for  David,  and*  he  slept 
on  a  piece  of  carpet  while  his  friend  slept  in  a  room  close 
by.  Something  bit  him  all  night.  In  the  morning  he 
looked  into  the  room  where  his  friend  lay,  and  seeing  what 
kind  of  a  house  it  was,  he  went  off  without  waiting  to  speak 
to  him. 

After  making  several  attempts  to  find  employment,  David 
thought  some  of  going  to  South  America,  not  knowing  but 
chances  would  be  more  favorable;  then,  if  he  failed,  he 
might  go  thence  to  Liverpool  or  Havre.  If  the  captain  of  a 
vessel  had  agreed  to  take  him  to  Jerusalem,  he  would  have 
gone  in  a  minute.  He  even  went  along  side  of  the  ships,  but 


PRAIRIE   LIFE   IN   EARLY   DAYS.  193 

everybody  was  busy,  and  he  concluded  thei*e  was  no  chance. 
While  he  walked  the  streets  he  always  kept  his  eyes  on  the 
ground,  hoping  to  find  something,  and  one  day  he  did  find  a 
very  ragged  half  dollar  shin  plaster  on  the  Third  Municipality. 
The  way  he  lived  was  to  slip  up  to  the  lunch  tables  when 
there  was  a  crowd,  and  deliberately  take  a  piece  of  bread, 
put  some  butter  on  it,  then  take  a  pickle  or  a  piece  of  cheese, 
just  as  if  he  had  bought  a  drink  and  paid  for  it.  Generally 
the  lunch  is  set  out  from  11  to  12  A.M.,  but  in  some  of  the 
French  and  Spanish  cofiee-houses  it  is  set  out  a.t  9  o'clock. 
Around  the  outside  Place  d'Armes,  or  Jackson  Square,  were 
a  great  many  orange  stands,  and  the  keepers  were  in  the 
habit  of  throwing  the  defective  ones  inside,  which  he  used  to 
pick  up,  and  he  found  them  very  good  eating.  He  often 
wondered  that  in  such  a  large  city  there  seemed  to  be  no- 
body else  as  hungry  and  as  wretched  as  himself.  David 
had  formed  the  acquaintance  of  a  shoemaker,  who  had  a  cot 
bed  in  the  hall  of  the  third  story  of  a  building  on  Gravior 
Street,  and  who  let  him  sleep  with  him,  though  the  cot  was 
no  more  than  two  feet  wide.  He  slept  next  the  wall,  nor 
was  he  able  to  turn  over  or  to  stir  till  the  shoemaker  got  up. 
Sometimes  he  would  be  out  all  night,  when  David  had  great 
enjoyment  in  the  whole  bed,  though  it  was  very  dirty.  He 
always  felt  grateful  to  this  man. 

On  first  reaching  the  city  he  had  written  to  his  parents 
how  bad  ofi°  he  was,  and  they  sent  him  five  dollars,  but  he 
never  got  it.  Afterwards  they  wrote  again  and  mentioned 
the  money,  and  he  made  a  great  fuss  in  the  post-ofiice,  but  it 
amounted  to  nothing.  Now  there  was  a  cotton  factor  who 
had  talked  about  hiring  him,  and  a  day  had  been  fixed  when 
he  was  to  go  and  see  him.  David  went  up  three  pair  of 
stairs  to  his  room,  when  the  factor  talked  to  him  ;  had  him 
tell  his  story  and  show  his  writing,  which  he  said  would  do  ; 
then  he  took  a  bottle  out  of  a  cupboard  and  gave  him  a 
glass  of  wine.  This  tasted  good.  Then  the  man  said  if  he 
would  come  in  one  week  from  that  time  he  would  employ 
him  at  ten  dollars  a  week.  David  went  down  stairs,  be- 
9 


194  LIFE   IN    THE   WEST. 

lieving  that  he  was  only  put  off,  and  that  this  was  the  end 
of  it ;  or  if  he  should  get  the  situation,  he  could  not  imagine 
how  he  could  stand  it  another  week,  and  he  stopped  in  the 
middle  of  the  stairs,  where  it  was  dark,  and  clutching  the  rail- 
ing, he  bit  his  lips,  and  raised  up  his  eyes  and  shed  some 
bitter  tears.  He  wondered  if  he  should  ever  see  better  times, 
if  he  ever  should  sit  at  a  decent  table  and  eat  his  fill  of  food. 
He  knew  that  there  was  abundance  in  his  father's  house,  and 
that  his  mother  had  a  clean  wide  bed  ready  for  him.  For  a 
moment  he  thought  of  committing  suicide,  then  of  joining 
counterfeiters,  but  he  restrained  himself,  and  believed  that 
in  some  day  he  would  look  back  on  his  distress  with  a  smile. 
In  the  life  of  every  human  being  there  are  times  of  despair, 
and  he  will  be  delivered  if  he  do  not  give  way  to  temptation. 
Contrary  to  his  expectations,  the  cotton  factor  employed 
him,  and  then  he  gave  him  an  order  for  a  hat  and  a  pair  of 
shoes.  His  business  was  to  keep  accounts  of  cotton,  as  the 
bales  were  received  in  a  long  low  house ;  to  build  a  fire  in 
the  office  and  to  sweep  out.  He  paid  five  dollars  for  his 
board  and  slept  in  the  office  on  a  mattress.  He  thought  he 
was  getting  along  well,  till  his  employer  found  a  mistake  of 
a  hundred  bales.  For  several  hours  things  looked  dark,  and 
David  expected  to  go  to  jail ;  but  as  he  would  not  be  hanged, 
he  determined  to  start  for  home  as  soon  as  he  got  out.  Look- 
ing over  the  book  with  a  confused  head  a  long  time,  he 
calmed  down  at  last,  and  then  saw  that  he  had  entered  the 
cotton  as  shipped  when  it  should  have  been  received.  The 
man  said  he  would  try  him  once  more ;  if  he  did  not  do  bet- 
ter he  must  leave.  Besides  this  he  must  take  more  pains 
with  his  writing,  for  some  of  it  looked  like  quail  tracks. 
This  was  a  good  lesson  for  him,  and  us  he  had  a  plenty  of 
time,  he  took  great  pains  and  made  everything  neat  and 
exact.  Why  he  did  not  get  into  trouble  with  a  certain  girl 
astonished  him  afterwards.  She  was  English,  and  when  he 
came  home  from  dinner  he  often  met  her  on  the  stairs  in  a 
dim  light ;  but  he  always  passed  by  her  without  stopping. 
Perhaps  it  was  because  his  clothes  were  poor.  Among  his 


PRAIRIE    LIFE    IN   EARLY    DAYS.  195 

acquaintances  was  an  actor  in  the  St.  Charles  Theater,  who 
got  a  pass  for  him,  and  he  went  every  night,  Sunday's  in- 
cluded. Among  the  actors  were  Forrest,  Ellen  Tree,  and 
Madame  Celeste,  who  made  a  new  impression  on  his  mind. 
Here  he  was  thrown  into  more  company,  but  he  did  not  lead 
off  with  them,  as  perhaps  he  might  have  done  if  he  had  been 
dressed  as  well  as  they,  and  thus  he  was  saved  from  perdi- 
tion. In  digging  a  grave  there,  they  come  to  water  in  less 
than  two  feet,  and  the  coffin  is  only  slightly  covered  with 
earth.  A  great  many  coffins  are  laid  flat  on  the  ground, 
when  tombs  of  brick  are  built  over  them.  As  he  was  not 
thought  worth  looking  after,  they  who  were  seeking  souls 
and  money  paid  little  attention  to  him.  But  he  fell  into  the 
habit  of  occasionally  drinking  brandy,  and  he  might  have 
gone  on  had  he  not  got  too  much  one  night,  and  feeling  sick 
at  the  stomach,  he  went  into  a  narrow  alley  paved  with 
brick,  where  it  was  very  clean,  and  water  was  running. 
After  he  got  through  vomiting  he  saw  near  by  in  the  water 
a  piece  of  fresh  meat  which  looked  like  a  man's  windpipe. 
He  went  to  his  mattress  as  quick  as  he  could,  where  he  was 
sick  all  night,  and  there  in  the  darkness  he  determined  never 
to  drink  again,  and  he  kept  his  word. 

David  stayed  through  the  summer  and  laid  up  nearly  $150, 
which  he  put  in  a  bank,  but  once  he  sent  home  $30,  which 
was  the  best  thing  he  did  in  all  his  travels.  He  felt  quite 
proud,  and  expected  to  become  a  rich  man.  If  he  could  only 
stand  it  through  the  season  and  become  acclimated,  he  would 
be  sure  of  large  wages,  or  he  could  go  into  business  on  his 
own  account.  Of  course  he  expected  to  have  the  yellow 
fever,  but  he  hoped  it  would  be  light ;  it  was  important  he 
should  have  it,  for  it  is  one  of  the  qualifications  for  business, 
at  least  it  was  at  that  time.  For  a  time  military  regulations 
have  made  some  change.  In  September,  David  had  it.  By 
this  time  his  wages  had  been  raised  to  Si  5  a  week,  and  his 
board  was  $8,  in  a  place  nearly  half  decent,  and  where  he 
had  a  room  to  himself,  although  the  rats  were  noisy.  He 
had  it  bad  enough,  and  the  doctor  told  the  folks  he  would 


196  LIFE   IN   THE   WEST. 

die  because  he  had  so  much  blood.  He  had  his  senses  most 
of  the  time,  and  knew  when  anybody  died  in  the  house. 
However,  he  got  better,  for  thougli  his  constitution  was  not 
strong  it  was  wiry.  In  eight  weeks  he  was  back  in  the 
office.  The  doctor  and  landlady  tried  to  find  out  how  much 
money  he  had  so  as  to  take  it  all,  but,  not  succeeding,  they 
charged  more  than  he  had ;  but  he  kept  a  little  by  making 
the  doctor  wait.  Still  he  was  not  well,  for  a  chronic  dys- 
entery followed  the  fever  ;  he  could  do  little  ;  day  after  day 
he  dragged  around  miserably,  and  as  no  medicine  would  do 
him  good,  he  determined  to  go  home.  After  buying  a  few 
clothes  he  was  obliged  to  take  a  deck  passage.  But  the 
second  clerk  let  him  have  a  berth  to  himself,  and  hunting  up 
some  old  canvass,  he  laid  it  across  the  boards,  and  had  a 
tolerable  place  to  sleep.  After  paying  his  passage  to  St. 
Louis  he  had  only  $15  left;  a  ten-dollar  bill  he  put  in  his 
watch  fob,  and  a  five-dollar  gold  piece  was  in  his  pantaloon's 
pocket  loose.  During  the  voyage  the  ten-dollar  bill  was 
stolen. 

Reaching  St.  Louis  he  took  a  deck  passage  up  the  Illinois 
river,  and  he  was  put  off  at  the  landing  nearest  home,  with 
a  little  over  a  dollar  left.  All  the  way  up  his  dysentery  was 
very  bad.  He  was  poor  in  flesh,  his  eyes  were  sunken,  and 
he  had  to  walk  with  a  cane;  but  he  had  a  nice  pair. of  boots 
and  a  good  overcoat.  He  had  the  good  luck  to  get  a  ride 
in  a  grain-wagon  to  his  father's  door.  When  the  wagon 
stopped  his  mother  was  looking  out  of  the  window,  so,  when 
he  rose  up,  she  saw  him,  and  she  came  down  and  helped  him 
to  the  ground.  He  had  a  little  trunk  with  several  hundred 
brass  nails  scattered  over  it,  and  a  carpet  sack.  By  the 
time  he  had  got  into  the  kitchen,  and  while  his  brother  was 
putting  on  the  tea-kettle,  his  father  came  up  from  the  mill, 
wearing  the  same  hat  and  coat  white  with  flour.  Of  course 
they  were  glad  to  see  him,  and  they  wanted  to  know  how 
much  money  he  had.  He  wanted  to  know  if  one  could  have 
the  yellow  fever  and  money  at  the  same  time.  Well,  no 
matter.  We  must  all  live  and  learn.  It  was  a  long  time 


PRAIRIE   LIFE   IX  EARLY   DAYS.  197 

before  he  got  better.  He  lost  his  hair  again,  and  at  night 
had  dreadful  nightmares.  The  first  thing  that  did  him  any 
good  was  raw  onions  in  vinegar.  The  buckwheat  cakes 
helped  him,  and  by  midwinter  he  got  able  to  hjiul  wood. 

Then  the  question  arose,  what  was  he  going  to  do  ?  He 
had  better  kept  at  his  law  books.  Sometimes  there  were 
bitter  words,  and  melancholy  thoughtful  hours  followed. 
The  best  thing  they  could  see  about  David  was  his  constant 
reading.  He  read  Hamlet  and  Othello,  and  remembered 
how  he  had  seen  them  acted.  His  folks  thought  that  surely 
something  must  come  from  so  much  learning — still  nothing 
seemed  to  come.  It  is  true  he  told  his  mother  he  would 
be  something,  and  that  in  time  they  would  be  proud  of  him ; 
but  that  was  nothing.  How  was  he  to  get  a  living  ?  Not 
even  a  potato  did  all  his  reading  produce. 

His  father  proposed  he  should  take  the  mill,  do  the  work, 
and  have  half,  for  he  was  broken  down  with  many  years  of 
labor  and  wanted  to  rest.  David  said  the  mill  was  old  and 
ought  to  be  rebuilt ;  that  they  might  make  other  than  black 
flour,  for  nobody  came  any  more  if  they  could  help  it.  His 
father  agreed  to  this,  for  he  had  laid  up  money.  They  tore 
down  in  part,  made  an  addition,  got  a  pair  of  French  burrs 
and  a  new  bolt.  After  a  long  time  the  mill  was  ready  to 
run.  They  made  good  flour,  they  bought  wheat,  and  kept 
two  teams  running  to  the  river.  David  worked  well  and 
was  making  money,  still  he  was  as  uneasy  as  a  fish  out  of 
water;  his  eyes  were  never  still,  and,  what  was  worse,  he 
would  not  go  into  young  company.  They  said  he  had  a 
grudge  against  the  girls  because  they  had  given  him  the 
mitten  and  had  laughed  about  it.  There  seemed  no  pros- 
pect of  his  getting  married  and  settling  down,  and  his 
mother  was  afraid  he  would  take  another  start.  He  fre- 
quently spoke  of  the  beauty  of  the  Lower  Mississippi,  and 
at  night  he  had  a  light  in  his  room  to  a  late  hour.  This 
made  him  lie  abed  in  the  morning.  They  all  said  it  was 
scandalous  that  men  should  come  four  or  five  miles  with 
their  grists  while  he  was  still  abed.  Sometimes  his  father 


198  LIFE  IN  THE  WEST. 

•would  come  and  get  the  key  out  of  his  pantaloon's  pocket, 
take  in  the  grist  and  set  the  mill  running.  Then  they  had 
high  words. 

About  this  time  the  Spiritualists  commenced  their  work, 
and  David  fell  in  with  them.  He  attended  their  sittings, 
went  to  their  meetings,  and,  after  a  while,  got  up  and 
preached  a  little.  His  folks  heard  that  it  was  poor  preach- 
ing. They  were  greatly  displeased ;  but  a  certain  class,  not 
belonging  to  the  church,  thought  more  of  him,  and  they 
used  to  hang  around  the  mill  a  half  a  day  at  a  time.  David 
invited  some  of  the  preachers  to  stay  all  night,  which  made 
it  disagreeable ;  but  the  business  cooled  down  a  little  when 
a  few  went  crazy  and  were  sent  to  the  asylum.  In  addi- 
tion, David  had  strange  notions  about  food — he  would  eat  no 
meat,  drink  neither  tea  nor  coffee,  and  he  made  a  great  deal 
of  trouble  in  the  cooking  department.  He  would  eat  un- 
bolted bread,  which  had  to  be  made  in  a  particular  way, 
and  he  began  to  talk  about  not  eating  butter  or  salt,  or  even 
drinking  water. 

While  he  was  in  these  tantrums  he  heard  a  strange  piece 
of  news.  Flora  Miller's  folks  had  moved  out  west  and  were 
living  in  the  next  county,  and  she  was  unmarried.  The 
moment  David  heard  it  he  determined  to  go  and  see  her ; 
perhaps  she  would  have  him  yet.  He  hurried  around,  blacked 
his  boots,  brushed  his  clothes,  and  tried  two  shirts  because 
they  were  not  well  ironed.  His  mother  asked  him  whither 
he  was  going,  but  she  could  get  nothing  out  of  him;  and 
he  saddled  his  horse  and  rode  away.  Before  night  they 
heard  that  he  stopped  at  the  new  store  down  the  Fork  and 
bought  a  new  bridle  with  ivory  martingale  rings.  After 
traveling  till  the  middle  of  the  afternoon  he  reached  a  tavern 
half  a  mile  from  Mr.  Miller's  place,  put  up  his  horse  and 
walked  over.  They  had  bought  an  improved  farm — there 
was  an  orchard  in  bearing,  there  were  green  blinds  to  the 
house,  there  were  shade-trees  and  flowers.  Flora's  mother 
knew  him,  and  was  glad  to  see  him ;  he  should  take  a  seat, 
and  then  she  called  her  daughter.  Flora  did  not  seem  in 


PRAIRIE   LIFE    IX   EARLY    DAYS.  199 

much  hurry,  though,  to  tell  the  truth,  she  never  was  more 
in  a  hurry,  and  at  last  she  came  down  stairs  in  a  nice  dress, 
looking  neat  and  trim,  but  she  was  older. 

With  a  sort  of  eagerness  she  gave  him  her  hand,  and 
they  were  on  good  terras  in  a  moment.  David  casually 
remai-ked  that,  travelling  through  the  country,  he  heard 
they  were  living  there,  and  had  called  to  see  them.  They 
were  very  glad  of  that,  but  he  must  stay  all  night.  He  did 
not  know.  What  time  was  it  ?  Her  mother  thought  she 
had  no  business  around  and  went  out  into  the  back  kitchen. 
When  the  miner  has  a  blast  ready  at  the  head  of  the  drift, 
he  thinks  it  is  the  best  way  to  walk  off.  Then  David  said, 
he  had  come  expressly  to  visit  her  if  she  had  no  objection. 
Oh,  certainly  not,  she  was  glad  to  see  an  old  friend.  Then 
he  carried  out  a  little  plan  on  which  he  had  been  meditat- 
ing. He  kissed  her.  Several  years  before  he  had  made 
out  to  get  a  chance  to  kiss  a  few  third-class  girls,  but  this 
was  the  only  first-class  girl  he  had  ever  kissed.  He  was 
a  little  awkward,  but  in  time  he  learned  the  business 
thoroughly. 

Flora's  life  had  not  been  all  floral.  People  had  said  that 
she  was  too  proud,  for  she  had  refused  many  good  chances, 
and  some  were  above  what  she  could  have  expected.  Several 
times  it  appeared  as  though  she  would  have  a  young  fellow ; 
she  talked  with  her  folks  about  him,  and  the  match  seemed 
certain ;  then  she  sawr  something  she  did  not  like — he  was 
too  coarse,  too  illiterate,  or  too  bold,  and  she  dismissed  him. 
She  had  heard  of  David  in  round-about  ways,  from  tune  to 
time — in  particular  about  his  sending  home  money,  and  that 
he  was  a  great  scholar,  and  she  did  not  know  what  might 
happen  if  they  should  meet.  While  she  was  dressing,  she 
determined  to  do  her  prettiest  to  get  him.  She  made  her 
brother  get  his  horse  and  feed  him  well ;  then  she  helped  her 
mother  get  a  good  supper.  When  the  men  folks  came  in, 
they  saw  what  was  going  on,  and  they  did  the  best  they 
could  to  help  her,  for  she  was  getting  well  along,  and  they 
wanted  to  work  her  off. 


200  LIFE   IX   THE  WEST. 

Now,  Flora  was  no  mean  prize.  She  was  well  educated, 
even  for  one  in  a  much  higher  station,  and  she  had  improved 
her  mind  by  reading  and  reflection.  Although  her  face  was 
clouded  with  faint,  creamy  spots,  still  it  had  a  wonderfully 
clear,  transparent  look,  and  her  eyes  were  bright  and  quick 
with  intelligence.  Her  nose  was  not  much,  because  it  was 
rather  sharp,  still  there  were  lines  of  decision  connected  with 
the  muscles  of  her  mouth,  which,  though  extremely  feminine, 
indicated  the  enduring  qualities  of  an  intellectual  and  strong 
mind.  A  science  is  yet  to  be  developed  regarding  the  lines 
of  the  face,  which  will  become  the  framework  of  mental 
researches  in  future  ages.  She  had  taught  school  many 
years,  and  though  dressing  well,  she  had  laid  up  nearly  two 
hundred  dollars.  By  boarding  around  in  families,  she  had 
learned  much  of  human  nature ;  she  was  patient  with  chil- 
dren, kind  to  her  equals,  and  obliging  to  the  old.  She  was 
sincerely,  and  even  intelligently  pious,  and  she  never  ne- 
glected morning  and  evening  devotion.  In  particular  does 
woman  need  assistance  from  religion,  that  her  weakness  may 
be  strengthened  bv  faith,  and  that  she  may  see  her  sorrows 
in  One  gone  on  before.  In  missionary  and  other  benevolent 
objects  she  always  assisted  ;  in  the  Sunday-school  no  teacher 
was  more  beloved ;  in  the  family  she  was  always  consulted, 
and  no  party  could  be  complete  if  she  was  absent.  With  a 
desire  to  marry,  with  a  great  hope  in  her  heart,  she  still  had 
slighted  one  chance  after  another ;  in  the  "West  she  had 
rejected  her  admirers  as  she  had  done  in  the  East,  and  she 
was  about  to  be  left  high  and  dry.  But  she  had  made  up 
her  mind  that  she  would  improve  the  first  good  chance,  and  she 
Avas  every  day  expecting  the  attentions  of  a  widower,  with 
two  children  and  a  large  property,  when  David  knocked. 

After  the  house  was  quiet,  and  the  candles  were  lighted, 
and  she  was  with  David  alone  in  the  parlor,  and  after  he 
had  kissed  and  embraced  her,  and  they  had  talked  a  little, 
she  saw  that  he  was  unused  to  keeping  company  with  young 
ladies.  To  satisfy  herself,  she  asked  him  questions.  He 
told  her  much  of  his  history  ;  and  when  she  asked  him  about 


PRAIRIE   LIFE   IN   EARLY   DAYS.  201 

the  young  ladies  whom  he  knew,  he  said  he  knew  none,  for 
he  had  been  waiting  all  these  long  years  for  her.  Ah,  in- 
deed, that  was  a  pretty  story.  She  watched  him  closely, 
and  the  hours  passed  swiftly.  Still,  for  one  who  had  little 
experience  in  female  society,  he  seemed  very  cautious.  He 
talked  freely  on  all  subjects,  but  of  his  intentions  regarding 
her,  of  which  she  wished  so  much  to  know,  she  could  learn 
nothing.  After  several  hours,  she  smoothed  his  hair,  and, 
taking  hold  of  his  shirt- collar,  said  he  ough^  to  have  some 
one  take  care  of  his  clothes.  He  said  he  knew  he  had,  but 
he  did  not  say  he  wanted  her  to  do  it.  Then  she  was  silent. 
She  reflected  on  the  proper  course.  All  that  was  proper  she 
had  permitted  and  done,  and  he  was  comparatively  cold. 
When  it  became  so  late  that  to  retire  could  no  longer  be  de- 
layed, she  opened  the  bed-room  door  leading  from  the  parlor 
and  told  him  that  he  was  to  sleep  there.  They  separated. 
She  fell  asleep  trying  to  guess  the  kind  of  man  he  was. 

Late  in  the  morning,  she  tapped  at  the  door.  He  opened 
his  eyes,  saw  her  best  dresses  in  a  closet,  and  answered. 
She  said  breakfast  was  ready.  They  sat  down  together 
where  vines  shaded  the  window,  and  where  through  the  door 
farm-work  was  seen  going  on.  After  breakfast  she  saw 
him  in  the  porch  striking  a  match,  when  she  went  out  and 
asked  him  what  he  was  doing.  He  showed  his  pipe,  partly 
covered  by  his  hand.  She  scarcely  knew  what  to  say;  she 
would  not  marry  a  man  who  smoked,  and  now  it  seemed 
as  if  she  would  lose  him  and  she  would  never  marry.  But 
she  was  determined,  and  she  told  him  if  he  was  going  to 
expect  anything  from  her  he  must  stop  smoking.  He  looked 
surprised,  said  he  knew  it  was  a  bad  habit,  then  meditated, 
and  the  match  went  out.  Oh,  yes,  now,  saying  nothing 
about  her,  it  was  for  his  own  good.  He  looked  a  moment  in 
her  face,  in  that  moment  she  won,  and  he  threw  his  pipe  in 
the  grass.  Shortly  after  he  got  out  his  horse.  She  walked 
with  him  part  way  from  the  house  to  the  gate,  and  gave 
him  her  hand.  From  an  upper  window  she  watched  him  till 
she  could  see  him  no  longer. 
9* 


202  LIFE   IX   THE    WEST. 

Iii  a  few  days  she  got  a  letter  from  him.  He  described 
how  happy  he  had  been  in  her  society,  and  how  much  he 
wished  to  see  her  again.  He  had  mentioned  the  matter  to 
his  parents ;  there  were  no  objections,  and  they  would  be 
married  in  a  few  months.  He  did  not  know  whether  he 
would  run  the  mill  or  buy  some  land  and  have  a  farm  of 
his  own ;  he  knew  of  an  eighty-acre  farm  where  there  was  a 
water-power,  and  he  thought  strongly  of  buying  it,  for  an 
old  mill  was  on  it,  but  the  dam  had  given  away,  and  he  did 
not  know  as  another  would  stand  well.  Then  he  went  on  to 
tell  her  how  much  he  loved  her ;  how  he  thought  of  her  by 
night  and  by  day,  and  all  this,  and  appointed  a  time  when 
he  would  see  her  again.  She  was  perfectly  surprised,  for 
not  one  word  had  passed  between  them  about  marriage. 
On  reflection,  she  concluded  to  let  him  take  his  own  course, 
and  she  wrote  him  a  letter  thanking  him  for  the  good  opinion 
he  had  of  her,  and  added  a  little,  falling  into  his  way.  He 
replied  immediately.  After  a  good  deal  of  nonsense,  some 
of  which  was  that  she  must  always  wet  the  wafer  with  her 
own  lips  so  that  he  would  be  certain  of  what  he  was  kissing, 
he  gave  her  directions  about  taking  care  of  her  health,  that 
she  must  bathe  frequently,  eat  little  meat,  and  keep  well 
informed.  This  made  her  smile,  for  she  was  familiar  with 
all  reformatory  matters,  and  perhaps  had  three  facts  where 
he  had  one ;  but  she  answered  she  would  do  as  he  wished. 

During  his  next  visit,  he  thought  they  ought  to  be  mar- 
ried sooner  than  he  had  mentioned,  but  this  she  would 
not  hear  of,  for  she  had  work  to  do  first,  and  he  submitted. 
As  she  got  more  acquainted  with  him,  she  began  to  mistrust 
him,  for  she  was  afraid  he  would  be  tyrannical  and  over- 
bearing; but,  after  reflecting  a  long  time,  she  concluded  that 
whatever  trouble  he  might  give  her  would  not  continue 
always,  for,  as  he  was  conscientious,  she  believed  he  would 
improve,  and  she  thought  so  highly  of  herself  that  she  be- 
lieved she  could  direct  him.  She  could  see  that  on  many' 
subjects  he  was  ignorant,  almost  bigoted,  and  in  general 
society  he  woxild  have  passed  for  a  raw  country  youth, 


PEAIBIE  LIFE   IN   EARLY   DAYS.  203 

though  now  and  then  there  were  flashes  and  ideas  far  above 
the  common  level.  Flora  had  studied  phrenology  thoroughly, 
and  principally  that  she  might  select  a  husband.  After  a 
time  she  was  able  to  see  that  his  mind  was  not  wholly 
developed,  and  this  fact  encouraged  her.  Whatever  he 
might  become  would,  hi  a  great  measure,  depend  upon  her- 
self. She  knew  she  was  running  a  great  risk ;  she  foresaw 
precipices,  and  in  the  dim  distances  valleys  of  humiliation, 
but  it  was  now  too  late  to  return ;  and  then  she  saw  that 
the  beatings  back  and  the  disappointments  were  to  prevent 
her  from  having  another — that  he  alone  might  be  her  hus- 
band, and  try  her,  perhaps,  as  if  by  fire.  In  all  these  con- 
siderations the  future  life  rose  before  her,  and  connected 
with  it  were  the  inevitable  trials  of  the  Christian ;  nor  was 
she  unimpressed  with  the  history  of  the  human  race  in  dark 
and  distant  ages,  when  woman,  as  a  slave,  lived  in  hovels 
dark  and  foul.  Finally  they  were  married. 
*  David  took  her  home  to  live  in  his  father's  house.  He 
attended  to  the  mill,  she  was  busy  with  her  little  affairs,  and 
she  helped  her  mother-in-law,  for  they  all  sat  at  one  table. 
Of  course  a  separate  table  was  soon  established,  but  they 
had  no  trouble  except  now  and  then  a  little  squabble  about 
dishes,  which  ended  in  a  laugh.  It  was  not  long  before 
David  showed  signs  of  getting  ripe ;  week  after  week  gave 
evidence  that  sooner  or  later  he  would  drop  off,  and  at  the 
end  of  three  months  he  asked  his  father  what  he  was  going 
to  do.  What,  was  he  not  making  money,  and  could  he  do 
more  in  any  station  ?  Yes ;  but  he  wanted  something  of  his 
own.  He  was  not  going  to  work  that  way ;  for  of  two  licks 
only  one  was  for  himself.  He  knew  better  than  to  play  that 
game.  His  father  said  that  of  course  that  would  not  do 
always,  but  so  long  as  he  used  other  people's  labor,  which 
was  capital,  he  need  not  expect  to  have  it  for  nothing. 
Other  people  valued  their  licks  as  much  as  he  did  his. 
David  opened  his  eyes,  but  said  nothing.  Still  he  did  speak, 
but  his  father  did  not  hear  it  till  in  bed.  It  seemed,  then, 
that  his  father  was  not  going  to  give  him  anything,  Yery 


204:  LIFE   IN   THE  WEST. 

well,  he  was  going  off  for  himself,  and  they  might  manage 
the  mill  as  they  could.  His  father  tried  to  reason  the  case. 
He  ought  to  stay  two  or  three  years  and  lay  up  money 
enough  to  buy  a  nice  place.  One  brought  up  in  the  West 
gets  notions  about  working  with  other  people's  property 
which  in  the  East  appear  strange.  Everybody  seems  as  wild 
as  a  partridge. 

About  ten  miles  distant,  on  the  East  Fork,  was  an  eighty- 
acre  lot,  and  an  old  mill  with  the  dam  torn  out.  The  stones 
had  been  set  low,  and  in  a  freshet  had  been  worked  out,  and 
they  had  floated  twenty  or  thirty  rods  down  the  stream 
where  they  lay.  Across  the  stream  was  a  bottom-field  grown 
up  to  burs,  as  high  as  a  man's  head,  and  it  looked  as  though 
a  part  of  the  rails  had  been  stolen,  while  on  the  hill  were 
seven  or  eight  acres  in  one  field,  with  a  log-house,  one  apple- 
tree,  three  peach-trees  and  a  smoke-house.  Part  way  down 
the  hill  was  a  large  spring,  to  which,  in  a  dry  time,  people 
used  to  come  and  get  water  in  barrels. 

David  bought  this  place  for  $500,  and  paid  all  but  a  hun- 
dred dollars,  which  might  have  been  paid,  but  Flora  kept 
so  much  of  her  own  back  to  buy  furniture  and  other  things. 
He  got  timber,  fixed  up  the  house,  made  his  mother  give 
him  a  cow,  and  then  they  moved  in.  As  there  was  no  cel- 
lar, he  built  a  house  over  the  spring,  where  they  could  set 
milk,  but  he  had  to  fix  it  over  to  keep  out  the  snakes.  It 
was  a  rough  place  for  a  new  wife  who  had  been  used  to 
everything  comfortable,  and  who  had  dreamed  of  carpets 
and  tall  looking-glasses.  A  peach  tree  shaded  the  door  early 
in  the  morning,  the  rest  of  the  day  the  sun  shone  in  hot, 
except  late  in  the  afternoon,  when  the  sun  came  in  through 
the  north  window.  The  nearest  neighbor  was  a  quarter,  the 
next  half  a  mile  distant.  It  was  four  miles  to  meeting,  and 
a  Methodist  one  at  that.  However,  Flora  fixed  up  her  house 
neatly;  it  was  her  own,  poor  though  it  was,  and  she  planted 
morning  glories,  pinks  and  roses.  David  built  a  stable  where 
he  could  keep  his  horse,  and  she  her  hens,  and  then  he  rived 
pickets  out  of  oak  and  built  a  good  garden  fence, 


PRAIRIE   LIFE   IN   EARLY   DAYS.  205 

She  soon  began  to  have  trouble  with  him.  When  they 
were  buying  things  at  the  store,  he  would  not  allow  her  to 
have  a  tea-kettle  or  any  tea-cups.  However,  he  consented 
to  have  a  tea-kettle,  because  it  was  of  use  in  heating  water, 
but  not  a  tea-cup,  for  neither  of  them  drank  tea  or  coffee, 
and  they  never  would.  When  she  was  married  she  had  a 
nice  filigree  breast-pin,  but  after  he  got  her  home  he  talked 
so  about  it  when  she  was  putting  it  on  to  go  to  meeting, 
that  she  took  it  off  and  afterwards  gave  it  to  her  sister. 
This  hurt  her  feelings.  Again,  that  same  Sunday  she  went 
up  to  him,  and  undertaking  to  fix  his  shirt-collar,  which  did 
not  fit  well,  for  his  mother  made  it,  she  happened  to  choke 
him  a  little,  and  he  told  her  to  go  away.  It  was  a  long 
time  before  she  made  a  similar  attempt.  She  was  disap- 
pointed, but  said  nothing,  for  these  were  little  things.  But 
one  thing  hurt  her  more.  She  found  out  that  he  was  a 
Spiritualist.  While  he  thought  there  were  some  very  good 
things  in  the  Bible  there  were  so  many  contradictions  it 
could  scarcely  be  an  inspired  book,  and  he  repeated  some 
things  he  had  heard  of  out  of  Strauss.  She  was  so  sur- 
prised that  she  was 'silent;  he  thought  he  had  nearly  con- 
verted her,  though  he  could  not  account  for  her  coldness. 
At  another  time,  when  she  undertook  to  argue  with  him,  he 
became  so  violent  that  it  took  a  long  time  to  hush  him  up ; 
in  fact,  she  had  to  let  him  get  cool  when  he  could.  Both 
saw  the  necessity  for  avoiding  religious  subjects.  That 
night,  as  on  all  other  nights,  after  she  blew  out  the  candle, 
she  kneeled  down  by  a  chair  and  prayed  to  herself.  Once 
when  the  moon  shone  he  asked  her  what  were  the  subjects 
of  her  prayers.  She  said  she  mostly  prayed  for  him,  for  she 
knew  nobody  who  needed  praying  for  more. 

David  had  saved  two  hundred  dollars  to  put  his  mill  in 
order.  He  bought  a  yoke  of  oxen  and  went  to  hauling  stone 
to  rebuild  the  dam.  Folks  said  the  soil  was  so  sandy  it  would 
not  stand,  but  he  would  show  them  that  stone  and  clay 
would  make  good  work.  He  hauled  over  a  month,  then 
went  to  scraping  and  wheeling  clay.  Meanwhile  he  had  a 


206  LIFE  IN   THE  WEST. 

mill  -wright  at  work  putting  in  the  stones  and  repairing  the 
bolt.  He  did  not  expect  to  do  first-rate  work,  for  the 
stones  were  of  native  rock,  but  he  was  in  a  good  neighbor- 
hood, and  no  mill  nearer  than  his  father's  on  one  side,  and 
thirty  miles  on  the  other  ;  he  could  grind  a  plenty  of  corn  ; 
what  he  got,  for  toll,  he  would  haul  to  the  river,  and  in  time 
he  would  have  French  burrs.  He  worked  early  and  late, 
and  Flora  believed  that  such  an  industrious  man  must  suc- 
ceed. After  a  long  time,  the  mill  began  to  run,  and  a  plenty 
of  grists  came  in.  He  had  been  obliged  to  go  in  debt,  but 
he  expected  soon  to  pay  up,  and  he  even  fixed  the  time ;  for 
he  could  grind  so  much  a  day,  in  so  many  days,  the  toll 
would  be  so  much,  and  then  he  would  be  independent. 

One  morning  Flora  waited  for  him  to  come  to  breakfast. 
She  had  gone  to  the  door  several  times  and  blowed  the  horn, 
but  he  did  not  come.  At  last  she  went  down  past  the  spring, 
and  had  nearly  reached  the  mill,  when  she  saw  him  sitting 
on  a  wheel-barrow.  As  she  approached  he  looked  up,  when 
she  asked  him  what  was  the  matter — surely  he  had  not  lost 
all  his  friends.  He  told  her  that  the  water  in  the  dam  had 
run  out,  and  they  went  down  and  saw  a  hole  larger  than  a 
hogshead.  But  this  was  not  the  worst.  The  muskrats  and 
craw-fish  were  working  in  the  dam,  and  if  the  repair  was 
made,  there  was  no  telling  when  another  break  would  come. 
However,  as  the  water  was  down,  the  dam  could  be  strength- 
ened with  straw  and  brush,  and  he  must  get  hands  and  go 
to  work.  After  a  week's  labor  with  two  hands  and  the 
team,  the  mill  ran  again.  Gradually  their  fears  that  the 
dam  would  break  passed  away,  and,  for  a  little  mill,  it  did 
remarkably  good  business.  But  when  the  June  freshet 
came,  the  water  rose  high ;  all  grinding  was  stopped  with 
backwater,  and  while  many  were  watching,  the  dam  opened 
like  a  book,  and  the  flood  of  water  sank  gliding  down  like 
an  animal  running  away. 

The  neighbors  were  sorry,  more  on  their  own  than  on  his 
account,  and  they  proposed  he  should  make  a  frolic.  This 
he  agreed  to,  and  got  sugar  and  raisins,  and  killed  most 


PRAIRIE   LIFE   IN   EARLY   DAYS.  207 

of  his  roasting  pigs.  Flora  killed  her  early  chickens,  and 
sending  to  the  store  she  got  some  tea-cups,  which  he  saw, 
but  said  nothing  about,  and  the  neighboring  women  came 
the  day  beforehand  to  help  cook.  Then  all  the  men  and 
dogs  and  boys  and  oxen  in  the  Settlement  came ;  they  cut 
timber  and  brush,  they  plowed  and  scraped  and  made  the 
dam  good  again.  They  had  a  grand  dinner,  also  a  supper ; 
every  boy  had  a  piece  of  pie,  some  boys  got  cake,  and  long 
strings  of  cattle  drawing  chains  after  them  were  driven  home- 
ward in  the  evening.  The  next  morning  the  mill  was  run- 
ning ;  David  hired  a  man  and  kept  it  going  night  and  day. 

But  now  you  will  scarcely  believe  it;  in  just  ten  days  an- 
other freshet  came,  and  it  not  only  took  off  the  dam  but  it 
scooped  down  to  the  hard  pan.  This  startled  some  people. 
They  never  did  believe  the  dam  would  stand.  Others,  hav- 
ing most  milling  to  do,  said  it  would  stand,  and  some  were 
irreverent.  Then  Mr.  Ward  made  another  frolic.  This  time 
he  bought  his  chickens  and  pigs,  and  he  went  out  on  his 
horse  and  shot  a  sheep,  though  he  had  but  six.  They  had 
such  good  victuals  before  that  people  came  from  a  greater 
distance.  David  said  they  should  make  a  log  dam  with  the 
ends  dovetailed  together.  They  said  they  could  not  golf 
through  that  day.  Well,  they  should  do  what  they  could. 
They  cut  down  some  of  the  best  timber  he  had,  and  Flora 
felt  sorry  to  see  the  big  logs  snaked  down  the  bottom,  for 
they  had  intended  to  have  them  sawed  for  their  new  house. 
When  night  came  they  were  only  half  done,  and  everybody 
was  tired  with  chopping  and  lifting.  After  supper,  when 
David  was  seen  drinking  coffee,  they  held  a  meeting  to  see 
who  would  come  next  day.  Ten  or  twelve  good  men  said 
they  would  come.  The  rest,  having  all  they  could  eat,  had 
pressing  work  at  home.  The  few  next  day  finished  the 
work  befoi-e  night,  and  laughed  among  themselves.  Then 
the  mill  ground  again.  Thus  far,  counting  the  cost  of  the 
frolics  and  the  worth  of  the  timber,  the  mill  had  done  little 
more  than  pay  its  way.  As  to  paying  old  debts  this  could 
not  be  thought  of,  and  besides  he  had  made  a  store  debt. 


208  LIFE   IN   THE   WEST. 

The  house  still  stood  in  the  sun.  In  winter  the  wind  from 
the  prairie  whistled  and  blew,  and  it  roared  and  thundered 
through  the  timber  in  the  bottom.  When  Flora  went  to 
look  after  her  chickens,  she  wrapped  her  apron  around  her 
ears,  and  held  her  hands  over  it ;  and  sometimes  on  going 
around  the  house  the  wind  almost  took  her  off  her  feet,  and 
she  screamed.  They  had  only  one  room,  where  they  cooked 
and  slept,  but  they  had  a  spare  bed  in  the  loft.  Here  Flora's 
sister  slept  when  she  came  on  a  little  visit,  and  David's 
mother  slept  with  her  when  she  came.  They  had  a  plenty 
of  good  victuals,  and  the  doctor  said  he  never  drank  better 
tea.  Although  it  was  March,  the  weather  was  cold,  and  the 
mill-wheel  was  frozen  fast.  David  kept  a  good  fire.  He 
brought  water,  fed  the  chickens  and  hunted  up  the  eggs. 
When  he  Avas  not  wanted  he  sat  by  the  fire  reading  the 
Bible.  It  was  about  as  pretty  a  baby  as  they  make.  Every 
baby  is  pretty.  It  is  a  good  deal  like  corn  just  out  of  the 
ground,  fresh  and  clean,  and  nothing  sticks  to  it  but  dew. 
When  Flora's  sister  went  home  she  safd  David  was  the  best 
husband  that  ever  was ;  no,  not  the  least  cross,  and  so  handy ; 
but  they  were  awful  poor.  It  was  too  bad  to  think  of  the 
chances  she  had  thrown  away,  and  to  come  to  this  at  last. 
David's  mother  said  nothing,  but  she  sent  over  a  crock  of 
butter,  one  of  preserves,  a  sack  of  dried  peaches,  some  calico 
and  flannel,  and  a  part  of  a  paper  of  pins.  About  this  time 
Flora's  mother  sent  a  sack  full  of  things,  some  of  which 
looked  like  flannel,  and  they  were  put  away  in  the  chest. 

In  the  spring,  Flora  urged  her  husband  to  plant  an  or- 
chard, for,  having  a  family,  trees  ought  to  be  growing.  Yes, 
he  had  been  thinking  about  it ;  but  he  had  so  much  work  to 
do  he  could  not  get  time.  Yes,  yes,  yes ;  but  he  had  better 
take  time;  better  be  out  all  night;  go  without  clothes. 
She  would  go  without.  He  had  other  excuses.  Was  he  a 
man  or  was  he  not  ?  He  got  out  of  temper,  said  she  knew 
nothing  about  men's  troubles,  and  went  to  chopping  wood. 
After  a  little  he  yoked  the  oxen  in  the  wagon,  came  into 
the  house  to  get  some  bread  and  butter  and  boiled  eggs  to 


PRAIRIE   LIFE   IN   EARLY  DAYS.  209 

put  in  his  pocket,  for  he  was  going  over  to  his  father's  to 
get  some  apple-trees.  His  father  had  a  couple  of  long  rows 
of  trees  raised  from  the  seed,  and  grafted  with  Genitans, 
Romanites,  Greenings,  Spitzenbergs  and  Northern  Spys. 
When  David  told  him  what  he  came  after,  the  old  man  said 
he  supposed  he  could  have  some,  but  he  had  been  thinking  of 
planting  another  orchard.  The  truth  was,  he  had  been  wait- 
ing to  see  how  David  would  turn  out,  and  yet  he  had  raised 
the  trees  for  him.  Still,  he  believed  his  son  would  have  fruit 
nearly  as  soon  if  he  had  raised  his  own  trees.  There  were  two 
hundred — a  few  plums  and  peaches,  the  rest  apples.  They 
were  set  forty  feet  apart,  and  left  with  long  tops,  but  they 
had  good  roots.  The  planting  was  not  done  very  well. 
Then  she  wanted  him  to  plant  some  evergreens,  and  other 
trees  from  the  woods,  such  as  maple  and  sassafras,  and, 
being  in  good  humor,  he  did  so.  If  the  ground  had  not 
been  rich  most  of  them  would  have  died ;  some  did  die,  but 
they  were  trees  in  the  ground. 

The  mill  still  did  good  business.  The  dam  stood  the  June 
freshet  and  the  August  flood.  That  summer  he  made  not 
only  a  hundred  dollars,  but  enough  to  buy  several  thousand 
feet  of  lumber,  which  wras  hauled  and  stacked  up  in  the  road 
to  season.  Some  of  it  was  black  walnut  and  very  choice, 
though  it  all  cost  the  same.  He  could  not  build  till  the 
next  year,  perhaps  not  till  the  year  after.  The  lumber  lav 
there  three  years.  There  seemed  two  reasons  for  this ;  one 
reason  certainly  was  a  law-siiit. 

Some  three  miles  distant  the  Spiritualists  began  to  hold 
meetings  on  Sunday.  They  had  what  they  called  preaching, 
then  a  picnic,  after  that  a  dance.  People  going  by  from 
other  meetings  could  hear  a  fiddle,  and  through  the  trees 
they  saw  young  and  old  dancing.  David  attended  regu- 
larly and  wanted  Flora  to  go,  but  she  would  not  stir  a  step. 
He  brought  home  their  works,  and  he  sat  in  the  shady  side 
of  the  house  Sunday  afternoon  reading  Andrew  Jackson 
Davis.  He  said  he  was  delighted.  After  she  had  listened  a 
spell,  she  wanted  to  know  what  he  thought  of  himself. 


210  LTPE   IN    THE   WEST. 

There  he  was  in  great  trouble  about  the  miracles  of  the 
Bible,  and  yet  he  could  believe  all  those  wonders.  He  had 
better  read  Swedenborg's  works,  whence  all  this  stuff  came. 
Perhaps  that  might  do  him  some  good.  To  please  her  he  got 
Conjugal  Love ;  she  was  willing  to-  listen ;  but  after  a  while 
he  got  tired  of  it,  because  there  was  so  much.  He  took  up 
Davis  again,  but  his  spiritual  images  had  got  entangled, 
and  he  was  thrown  off  the  track.  He  scarcely  knew  what 
to  believe.  This  went  on  a  long  time.  Meanwhile  he  worked 
very  hard.  His  apple-trees  did  not  grow  because  he  raised 
oats  in  the  orchard,  and  then  he  put  in  wheat.  At  times  he 
was  cross  and  could  not  hear  the  baby  cry,  and  sometimes, 
he  had  the  ague,  which  did  not  improve  his  temper. 

One  time  a  Congregational  minister  stayed  with  them  all 
night.  He  had  heard  that  Flora  belonged  to  this  church 
and  he  thought  it  his  duty  to  call.  She  was  glad  to  see  him. 
For  two  years  she  had  not  gone  to  meeting,  and  she  was 
glad  to  talk  with  him  and  to  renew  her  spiritual  strength. 
David  treated  him  well,  and  got  into  a  discussion  on  Spiri- 
tualism. After  the  minister  was  gone,  he  acted  as  if  he  was 
jealous  of  her  talking  on  such  friendly  terms  with  another 
man.  He  said  a  little,  the  more  and  more,  till  she  turned 
from  him  with  contempt,  and  called  him  the  meanest  man 
that  ever  lived.  The  minister  came  again  and  he  brought  a 
book  for  David.  He  had  talked  enough  with  him  to  see 
where  he  stood,  and  the  book  he  brought  was  Butler's  Anal- 
ogy. This  is  pretty  hard  to  understand  on  account  of  obso- 
lete words,  but  if  one  is  a  little  patient  he  will  get  something 
out  of  it.  That  edition  had  an  introduction  by  Albert  Barnes, 
which  David  read  first.  He  was  reading  it  Sunday  morning 
while  his  clean  clothes  lay  across  a  chair,  for  he  was  going  to 
the  spiritual  meeting.  All  at  once  he  spoke  out.  He  liked 
that  way  of  taking  hold  of  a  subject.  It  asked  no  odds  of 
any  body.  He  read  on.  That  he  agreed  to,  and  that,  and 
that.  Well,  sir,  if  the  preachers  would  only  preach  in  that 
style  they  might  do  something.  Since  the  weather  was  so 
hot,  he  believed  he  would  not  go  to  meeting,  there  would  be 


PRAIRIE   LIFE    IN   EARLY   DAYS.  211 

enough  without  him.  and  the  horse  wanted  a  shoe.  He  would 
see  what  the  book  amounted  to,  and  would  read  it  to  her. 
She  made  him  put  on  his  clean  clothes,  and  then  she  kissed 
him.  She  was  feeling  humble  those  days.  Sundays  had 
been  very  sorrowful  to  her.  For  years  before  she  married 
she  had  sung  in  the  choir ;  now  she  saw  nobody.  They  went 
around  on  the  west  side  of  the  house,  and  he  read  to  her. 
As  he  read  he  seemed  to  get  new  light.  The  baby  had  been 
asleep,  but  it  waked  up,  and  he  saw  her  hurriedly  wiping  its 
face. 

The  law-suit  was  about  his  dam  overflowing  some  land  up 
the  Fork.  A  man  had  entered  it  and  wanted  to  put  it  in 
tame  grass,  but  he  could  not  do  it,  and  he  complained  besides 
that  the  flowing  made  his  family  have  the  ague.  Still  he 
would  be  fair.  David  might  either  buy  twenty  acres  or  pay 
him  damages.  David  urged  in  defence  that  when  he  bought 
the  land  it  was  overflowed,  and  he  knew  it,  and  as  for  the 
ague,  everybody  had  it  more  or  less.  As  they  could  not  set- 
tle it,  they  went  to  law,  and  the  case  was  put  over  from  term 
to  term ;  there  were  lawyers'  fees,  and  witnesses'  fees  count- 
ing up.  At  last  the  trial  came  off  and  David  got  beat.  His 
lawyers  urged  him  to  appeal,  for  it  is  a  part  of  their  business 
when  they  get  a  case  to  keep  it ;  then  there  were  more  costs ; 
then  came  an  injunction,  when  the  mill  stopped;  and  more 
costs  to  get  the  injunction  removed,  and  it  took  all  that  Da- 
vid could  earn  in  the  mill  to  keep  the  lawyers  running. 
When  one  of  David's  oxen  died  with  the  murrain,  Flora  told 
him  he  had  better  settle  it,  but  he  was  waspish,  and  she  did 
not  dare  say  much.  He  was  going  to  law  the  man  till  he 
got  enough  of  it ;  and  he  was  going  to  do  other  things. 

One  evening  a  neighbor  came  to  the  gate,  but  he  turned 
and  went  on  as  if  he  was  only  going  by.  Flora  saw  him, 
and  she  threw  herself  on  the  bed,  and  covered  her  face  with 
a  pillow  and  wept.  At  other  times  other  folks  overheard 
something.  All  these  things  went  out ;  they  traveled  far,  and 
even  went  down  the  Lake  and  were  reported  in  that  village 
of  green  grassy  valley. 


212  LIFE  IN  THE  WEST. 

"Ah,  just  as  we  expected!  We  never  thought  he  would 
amount  to  any  thing.  Clearly  enough  it  is  a  judgment  on 
her.  A  man  who  will  not  let  his  wife  have  a  breast-pin,  nor 
her  way  in  any  little  thing,  ought  to  be  poor.  But  we  are 
sony  for  her.  She  was  so  handsome,  so  good  and  so  well 
informed.  We  have  no  such  girls  now-a-days.  What  a  nice 
house  she  might  have  had  with  Lucian ;  it  is  true  he  was 
homely,  and  may  be  a  little  coarse ;  but  look  at  his  farm,  not 
a  stone  to  dull  a  scythe ;  look  at  his  cattle ;  and  then  he  is 
such  a  religious  man,  and  now  a  deacon.  Then  there  were 
Theodore  and  Walter.  Oh,  dear !  oh,  dear !  If  girls  will 
throw  themselves  away,  I  can't  help  it.  I  wonder  if  he 
drinks  ?  They  say  she  has  a  nice  baby ;  that  his  folks  and 
her  folks  had  to  send  it  clothes ;  but  what  is  one  ?  she  will 
have  her  hands  full  the  first  thing  she  knows — it  is  always 
the  way.  If  she  wasn't  such  a  fool  she'd  leave  him — I  would, 
I  vow.  But  she's  so  pi-oud  she'll  stay  as  long  as  she  has  a 
rag  left.  Never  mind,  that  cold  log-house,  and  the  ague  will 
finish  her  in  a  few  years.  If  ever  there  was  a  girl  who  might 
have  done  well,  and  had  her  pick  in  all  the  land,  it  was  she, 
and  she  must  throw  herself  away  on  that  good  for  nothing 
husband  !  If  any  body  can  help  crying,  they  may,  I  can't." 

While  the  law-suit  was  going  on,  another  freshet  came, 
and  made  awful  work.  The  water  did  not  stir  the  dam,  but 
it  cut  across  the  bottom,  ripping  out  the  sand  and  showing 
the  blue  clay;  it  made  another  channel  and  left  the  mill 
without  a  drop.  Judgments  came  so  thick,  that  a  judgment 
from  court  seemed  hardly  necessary.  Mr.  Ward  came  in 
and  said  he  was  ruined.  He  was  head  over  heels  in  debt ; 
his  taxes  were  not  paid;  he  had  to  go  to  court  the  next 
week,  and  he  had  no  pantaloons ;  and  he  thought  of  running 
away.  She  could  follow  when  he  got  a  place.  Flora  never 
seemed  less  discouraged.  She  told  him  it  would  not  do  to 
give  up  this  way,  that  trouble  of  some  kind  would  come 
wherever  he  might  go,  and  that  the  best  thing  he  could  do 
was  to  meet  things  bravely  and  to  conquer  on  the  spot.  He 
sat  listening  like  a  willing  little  child;  though  he  hardly 


PRAIRIE   LIFE   IN   EARLY    DAYS.  213 

seemed  to  understand.  She  added,  that  he  never  would  have 
a  better  time  to  settle  the  law-suit  than  now  ;  buy  the  land — 
for  he  could  get  it  cheap — then  repair  the  dam  and  go  on 
again.  He  said  he  believed  she  was  right.  For  a  whole  day 
he  sat  in  the  house,  or  walked  out  in  the  grove  taking  care  of 
the  baby.  After  his  disaster  was  well  talked  over  he  went 
and  made  a  bargain  for  the  land,  for  which  he  was  to  pay 
seventy-five  dollars,  and  twenty  down. 

To  raise  the  money  Flora  went  to  her  father.  She  got  on 
the  horse  and  David  handed  up  the  baby  and  she  struck 
across  the  prairie,  making  for  Dale's  grove,  which  was  nine 
miles  distant,  and  she  could  just  see  it.  Having  reached  the 
grove,  she  went  up  the  long  lane  to  Dale's  house,  when  the 
women  came  out  and  helped  her  down.  They  got  her  some 
cool  milk,  then  dinner  was  ready  ;  after  that  they  made  her 
lie  down  in  a  quiet  bed-room,  while  the  girls  took  care  of  her 
baby.  After  she  was  rested  she  got  on  her  horse,  and  Mr. 
Dale  told  her  what  points  of  groves  to  touch,  how  to  turn 
the  slues,  and  what  roads  to  turn.  She  made  no  mistakes, 
and  she  got  home  while  they  were  milking  the  cows.  She 
ate  supper  at  the  kitchen  table,  while  the  family  sat  and  stood 
around.  When  she  told  her  story,  and  when  she  came  to 
the  part  Avhere  she  wanted  money,  her  mother  made  a  noise 
•with  the  kettle  cover,  and  every  body  seemed  to  stop,  every 
thing  stopped,  and  though  nothing  was  said,  every  body 
seemed  to  say,  "  Oh  ho  !"  A  coldness  struck  her ;  but  she 
was  determined  to  keep  bold,  and  she  went  on  eating  and 
talking  ;  people  had  to  come  ten  and  twenty  miles  to  the  mill, 
new  comers  were  moving  in,  the  dam  itself  never  would  give 
way,  and  when  they  bought  that  little  piece  of  land  they 
would  be  independent.  Her  sisters  thought  she  was  mighty 
brazen,  but  her  father  said  nothing,  for  he  was  too  busy  play- 
ing with  her  baby.  At  last  she  asked  him  for  the  money 
outright.  He  looked  at  his  wife,  then  on  his  sons  and  daugh- 
ters, but  they  gave  no  encouraging  look  ;  then  he  said  he  had 
not  so  much  money  in  the  house.  Oh,  he  could  get  it  if  he 
wanted  to — and  she  knew  he  would.  The  next  morning 


214  LIFE   IN   THE   WEST. 

when  breakfast  was  ready  she  did  not  come  down,  and  her 
father  wishing  to  see  the  baby,  knocked  at  her  door.  She 
did  not  answer.  He  slowly  raised  the  latch,  and  saw  her 
fast  asleep  with  her  mouth  partly  open,  and  she  had  a  thin 
but  still  angelic  look.  He  knocked  loudly  and  she  awoke 
with  a  start. 

She  was  to  stay  that  day.  Her  father  was  either  out  on 
the  farm,  or  somewhere  else,  for  he  did  not  come  in  to  din- 
ner. At  supper  he  was  pleasant  enough,  and  he  talked  about 
mills.  He  had  been  thinking  it  over  that  people  find  too 
much  fault  with  millers,  saying  they  take  too  much  toll  and 
they  get  rich  too  fast.  They  do  not  take  into  account  how 
often  mills  break  down ;  how  often  high  water  makes  a  clean 
sweep ;  and  if  steam  is  used,  how  constantly  one  sends  to  St. 
Louis  for  castings,  or  elsewhere  for  mechanics  to  mend  water- 
pipes.  As  for  David,  he  was  afraid  he  did  not  manage  Avell, 
but  he  believed  he  would  learn.  There  was  nothing  like 
break-downs  to  make  a  man  smart.  He  seemed  to  like  her 
baby  very  much,  for  he  held  it  all  the  evening  and  they  had 
a  high  time  together.  At  last  she  said  she  would  go  to  bed. 
They  would  get  along  some  way,  for  David  never  would  give 
up — she  would  not  let  him.  Then  her  father  handed  her  the 
baby,  and  as  he  did  so  she  gave  him  a  look  of  wonder  and 
inquiry.  She  started  in  the  cool  of  the  morning.  A  sack 
filled  with  something  was  thrown  across  the  saddle,  and  a 
bundle  was  tied  to  the  stirrup  ring.  As  she  passed  through 
the  shady  lane  the  apples  in  the  orchard  on  either  side  were 
dropping.  Mother  was  asked  if  father  gave  her  the  money, 
but  nobody  could  find  out. 

One  of  the  first  things  Flora  talked  about  when  she  got 
home  was  the  way  their  orchard  looked.  The  trees  did  not 
grow  at  all ;  they  were  spotted  with  moss ;  many  had  died, 
and  more  would  die  if  he  did  not  take  better  care  of  them. 
As  she  said  this  she  handed  him  a  bundle  of  old  papers. 
What  was  it  ?  It  was  the  back  numbers  of  the  Cultivator 
for  three  years,  which  her  father  had  given  her.  David  said 
he  had  been  wishing  for  something  of  the  kind ;  may  be  he 


PRAIRIE   LIFE   IN   EARLY   DAYS.  215 

could  get  some  new  ideas.  After  a  week's  work  the  mill 
was  set  to  running,  and  folks  noticed  that  he  did  not  attend 
court.  Oh,  they  understood  it ;  his  wife  did  not  strike  across 
by  Dale's  grove  for  nothing.  What  a  good  thing  it  is  to 
have  rich  relations !  While  the  mill  was  grinding  David 
used  to  sit  in  an  old  chair  by  his  desk  and  read  the  Cultivator. 
After  he  had  read  a  week  or  so  he  hired  a  man  for  a  few  days 
to  take  his  place.  Early  the  next  morning  he  harnessed  his 
horse  to  the  plow,  drove  into  the  orchard  and  broke  up  the 
stubble.  This  took  him  all  day.  On  the  next  day  he  got  a 
pail  full  of  strong  soap  suds,  made  a  swab,  and  with  it  washed 
the  trunks  of  the  trees.  Being  among  the  trees  he  began  to 
make  discoveries.  Flora  saw  him  digging  around  them  and 
kneeling  down.  She  went  out  to  see  what  was  going  on. 
He  showed  her  a  tree  nearly  girdled  by  a  borer,  and  pres- 
ently he  pulled  out  a  claw-headed  worm.  This  was  a  thing 
that  must  be  attended  to.  Some  ten  days  afterwards  he  saw 
something  of  a  pale  green  color  on  the  tips  of  the  limbs ; 
perhaps  it  was  some  insect,  and  he  went  out  to  see.  It  was 
the  starting  of  new  leaves.  In  a  few  weeks  there  was  quite 
a  growth,  and  by  fall  they  began  to  look  like  trees  ;  while 
the  trunks  were  of  a  healthy  green  color. 

The  mill  ran  a  long  time,  but  in  March  a  freshet  tore  out 
the  bank  by  the  side  of  the  dam.  It  seemed  as  though  there 
was  no  end  to  this  business.  After  repairing  it  he  did  what 
he  should  have  done  at  first ;  that  is,  he  planted  as  large  wil- 
lows as  he  could  move,  and  set  cuttings  between.  They  all 
grew,  and  gradually  he  had  less  trouble,  till,  finally,  when 
the  roots  had  sunk  deep,  there  were  no  more  disasters.  At 
last  he  began  to  pay  something  on  his  debts.  For  a  long 
time  it  seemed  as  though  he  never  would  be  independent ; 
two  or  three  times  he  had  to  borrow  money  of  one  who  lived 
by  shaving  and  who  made  him  pay  ruinous  interest.  During 
two  years  all  of  David's  property  would  not  have  paid  his 
debts.  Even  after  he  had  got  to  paying  and  taking  up  notes 
he  was  really  worth  nothing.  It  seemed  worse  than  if  he 
was  commencing  new.  Still,  he  was  in  a  position  where  he 


216  LIFE   IN   THE   WEST. 

made  what  he  owed  help  him  more  than  the  same  amount 
could  have  helped  him  had  he  not  been  in  debt.  For  this 
there  were  three  reasons :  one  because  he  was  desperate ;  one 
because  he  had  acquired  skill ;  and  the  other  because  he  had 
a  regular  business.  One  time  he  came  home  after  paying  a 
forty-dollar  note.  It  was  warm  weather,  the  front  and  back 
doors  were  open,  a  young  rooster  stood  in  the  door,  while 
his  little  boy  was  playing  in  the  dirt  by  the  side  of  the  fence. 
He  wondered  where  Flora  could  be.  Hitching  his  horse  he 
went  to  the  door  and  saw  her  asleep  in  the  chair  with  the 
baby  in  her  lap.  Her  hair  had  not  been  combed ;  her  dress 
was  disordered,  for  the  baby  had  been  nursing ;  and  the  un- 
washed dishes  were  on  the  table.  He  glanced  around  the 
room.  The  cupbard  was  opened  and  untidy;  the  bed  was 
made,  but  not  neatly ;  and  the  floor  needed  scrubbing.  He 
made  a  slight  movement ;  with  a  start  she  awoke  and  adjusted 
her  dress.  He  spoke  tenderly  to  her,  and  a  faint  smile  lighted 
her  care-worn  face. 

From  that  hour  he  began  to  think,  and  he  determined  that 
the  utmost  that  he  could  accomplish  should  be  directed  to 
the  relief  of  the  wretchedness  of  his  household.  The  first 
thing  he  did  was  to  get  his  wife  hired  help.  At  once,  she 
had  the  house  cleaned,  and  she  kept  herself  and  the  children 
neat.  She  wanted  to  go  to  meeting,  and  he  took  her  in  the 
ox-wagon,  but  whether  the  preaching  was  so  poor,  or  she 
got  so  tired  riding  four  miles,  she  did  not  want  to  go  again, 
and  she  said  she  would  stay  at  home. 

Flora  had  been  greatly  disappointed  in  not  being  able  to 
control  her  husband,  except  on  some  important  occasions. 
In  the  everyday  affairs  of  life  she  not  only  had  little  influ- 
ence upon  him,  but  she  seemed  to  imitate  him.  This  was 
because  he  did  not  love  and  respect  her,  at  least,  because  he 
was  careless  and  cold,  sometimes  unfeeling.  She  felt  that 
she  was  losing  her  power.  Meanwhile,  poor  health  and 
many  bad  feelings  added  to  her  discouragements.  She  was 
unable  to  keep  up  with  her  work,  and  had  she  been  ever  so 
able,  she  could  not  have  made  things  look  well  in  only  one 


PRAIRIE   LIFE   IN   EARLY   DAYS.  217 

small  room,  where  the  clay  of  the  chinking  fell  down  and 
the  sun  and  the  wind  beat  in.  She  was  beginning  to  de- 
spair. For  many  yeai'S  in  her  youth  she  had  enjoyed  much, 
but  all  enjoyment  seemed  over,  and  she  looked  forward  to 
the  grave  as  the  only  place  where  she  could  rest,  for  rest 
was  all  she  now~  looked  to  enjoy.  When  David  began  to 
pay  his  debts  she  really  became  encouraged.  Perhaps  they 
might  yet  enjoy  themselves,  and  their  children  might  not  be 
lost.  A  religious  change  seemed  going  on  in  his  mind,  and 
she  noticed  very  particularly  that,  as  he  accepted  revelation, 
in  the  same  degree  his  attention  and  tenderness  increased. 

Up  to  this  time,  a  wide  body  of  government  land,  bounded 
on  two  sides  by  slues  which  had  been  almost  impassable, 
was  entered.  Then  a  large  number  of  settlers  came  oil 
from  the  East,  and  building  embankments  and  bridges  across 
the  slues,  they  opened  farms.  David  had  several  hundred 
bushels  of  corn  and  wheat  on  hand,  and  he  sold  these  people 
what  flour  and  meal  they  needed  till  they  could  make  crops, 
which  amounted  to  quite  a  handsome  sum.  These  soon 
brought  other  settlers,  who  picked  up  many  forty  and 
eighty-acre  tracts,  making  little  farms;  then  another  body 
of  land  a  little  further  off  was  entered,  till  it  seemed  as 
though  the  country  was  likely  to  be  something  after  all.  For 
more  than  twenty  years  there  had  been  scarcely  any  prog- 
ress, but  now,  settlements  changed  the  whole  of  the  prairie 
aspect  and  even  of  society  itself,  and  as  they  brought  money, 
trade  and  business  became  brisk,  and  all  kinds  of  provisions 
were  in  request. 

At  last  the  time  had  come  when  Mr.  Ward  could  build. 
The  new  house  was  behind  the  log  one,  and  though  it  was 
not  large,  it  was  finished  all  off,  having  a  kitchen  in  one 
end,  a  sitting-room  in  the  other,  and  three  good  bed-rooms 
up  stairs.  It  was  a  stormy  day  when  they  moved.  They  had 
got  a  little  new  furniture,  all  the  bed-stands  were  thoroughly 
cleaned,  and  when  the  table  was  spread  for  supper  and  they 
sat  down  around  it,  the  weather  out  doors  looked  very 
pleasant,  although  the  snow  came  down  whirling.  Flora 
10 


218  LIFE   IN  THE    WEST. 

had  dressed  up  the  children,  and  she  had  her  own  dress 
starched.  Now,  the  children  were  hungry  and  impatient, 
but  their  father  told  her  to  keep  them  still,  just  as  though 
he  was  going  to  ask  a  blessing,  and  then  he  actually  did  so. 
So  unprepared  was  she  for  this  that  she  had  to  Avipe  her 
eyes  with  the  back  of  her  hand.  It  would  take  a  long  time 
to  tell  how  he  had  changed  his  mind ;  but  he  afterwards  said 
that  it  was  her  constantly  praying  at  night  which  had  under- 
mined his  infidelity. 

At  last  those  apple-trees  really  began  to  grow.  In  three 
years  after  he  gave  them  fair  treatment  they  bore  some, 
and  after  that,  the  children  had  apples.  He  was  so  pleased 
with  his  success,  that,  having  a  chance  to  buy  trees  of  a  new 
nurseryman  for  grain,  he  took  enough  to  plant  ten  acres. 
Perceiving  how  much  he  had  learned  from  the  Cultivator,  he 
subscribed  for  other  agricultural  papers,  when  he  became 
interested  in  general  farming.  Then  he  hired  a  young  man 
by  the  year;  he  sowed  tame  grass  and  clover;  built  an  addi- 
tion to  his  house,  for  sleeping-rooms,  and  made  a  decided 
change  in  the  appearance  of  his  farm.  When  people  rode 
by  they  were  cheered  with  the  flowers  in  the  front  of  the 
house,  and  they  kept  turning  back  their  heads;  then  they 
had  to  look  at  the  orchard  in  full  bearing,  and  still  more  at 
the  large  one  which  they  had  not  seen  before,  growing 
among  the  corn. 

It  would  do  many  men  a  great  deal  of  good  if  they  could 
understand  that  ideas  grow  like  potatoes.  One  idea  will 
produce  eight  or  ten  ideas.  If  it  is  a  good  strong  idea,  the 
ideas  coming  from  it  will  be  of  the  same  kind.  But  you 
will  get  no  good  ideas  from  mean  little  ones,  while  what  you 
do  get  will  be  so  poor  that  even  good  ones  coming  in  con- 
tact will  go  to  decay.  So  it  was  in  David  "Ward's  case. 
Cultivating  fruit,  and  getting  other  notions  about  religion, 
he  began  to  turn  his  attention  to  things  which  interest  man- 
kind at  large.  Having  much  time  in  the  old  mill,  for  it 
ground  slowly,  he  got  hold  of  Blackstone  again  and  read  it 
carefully.  He  wondered  why  he  did  not  see  more  good  in 


PRAIRIE   LIFE   IN   EARLY    DAYS.  219 

it  before.  But  the  truth  was,  that,  having  seen  so  many 
disasters,  he  had  become  cautious,  and  he  had  acquired  the 
habit  of  providing  against  contingencies,  which  easily  pre- 
pared the  way  for  his  understanding  the  nature  of  law. 
In  addition,  he  had  insensibly  received  great  benefit  from 
the  well-disciplined  mind  of  his  wife.  While  she  imagined 
that  she  was  leading  an  aimless  life,  she  was  nevertheless 
imprinting  on  the  mind  of  her  husband  her  habits  of  think- 
ing, her  forms  of  expression,  and  her  religious  feelings.  A 
superior  mind,  when  guided  by  moral  sentiment,  ahvays  Avill 
elevate  an  inferior  one,  providing  there  is  no  obstinate  resist- 
ance ;  and  even  when  there  is  a  determination  to  plunge 
into  ruin,  the  day  of  doom  may  be  long  delayed. 

When  it  became  necessary  to  divide  the  county  seat,  for 
it  was  sixty  miles  long,  so  much  had  Mr.  Ward  risen  in 
public  estimation,  and  such  was  the  influence  of  his  orchard 
and  his  clover,  his  wife's  flowers  and  her  white,  clear  face, 
that  he  was  selected  as  one  of  the  Commissioners.  One  of  the 
results  could  not  well  have  been  avoided,  for  the  geographical 
centre  was  scarcely  more  than  two  miles  from  his  house,  on 
a  beautiful  dry,  sandy  prairie,  and  there  the  county  seat  was 
located. 

Time  flies,  and  the  grave  waits  to  receive  us  all.  Flora 
became  a  happy,  even  a  proud  wife,  for  her  husband  was 
kind,  and  she  made  rag  carpets  for  every  room.  A  school- 
house  was  built  near,  and  her  children  failed  not  to  attend. 
After  the  court-house,  a  church  was  built  and  she  could  go 
to  meeting.  Each  Sunday  after  meeting,  they  looked  around 
to  see  the  new  houses  that  were  going  up,  and  then  people 
inquired  of  each  other  about  houses  that  were  soon  to  be 
built.  After  Flora  had  been  to  meeting  several  Sundays  and 
had  listened  to  the  preaching,  which  was  acknowledged 
equal  to  any  in  the  West,  she  felt  that  there  was  something 
lacking.  She  did  not  receive  everything  that  was  said  with 
the  same  faith  that  she  did  before  she  was  married.  Per- 
haps she  had  been  too  long  familiar  with  the  sermons  in  the 
Independent,  and  perhaps  she  had  embraced  something  of 


220  LIFE   IN   THE   WEST. 

Spiritualism.  Without  knowing  it,  she  had  accepted  the 
leading  ideas  which  characterize  the  spirit  of  this  age,  which, 
in  some  degree,  she  had  derived  from  her  husband.  Who- 
ever believes  that  the  intellectual  and  religious  world  stand 
still,  will  be  left  behind. 

To  the  many  improvements  going  on,  Mr.  Ward  added 
the  rebuilding  of  his  mill.  It  was  a  frame,  and  two  and  a- 
half  stories  high.  He  got  good  burrs,  and,  when  it  was 
finished,  he  had  all  it  could  do.  After  running  five  years  it 
burned  down,  but,  being  insured,  he  built  one  four  stories 
high,  of  stone.  Two  years  after  he  built  a  nice  brick  house. 
One  evening  after  they  had  moved  into  it,  and  he  and  Flora 
were  looking  at  the  flower-garden,  he  told  her  how  many  dol- 
lars each  row  of  bricks  cost.  While  she  stooped  down  to  tie 
up  a  dahlia,  she  said  to  herself  that  each  brick  had  cost  a  tear. 
But  when  she  arose  she  never  smiled  on  her  husband  more 
tenderly. 

A  few  days  after  David  Ward  was  elected  Probate  Judge, 
he  was  met  in  the  hall  on  his  coming  from  the  county  seat 
by  his  eldest  daughter,  sixteen  years  old,  whose  face  made 
him  think  he  saw  an  image  afar  off,  and  she  asked  him  if  he 
had  got  it.  He  said  he  had,  when  he  gave  her  a  little  paper 
box.  Both  went  into  the  parlor  where  Flora  sat,  when  her 
daughter  took  off  the  cover,  and  lifting  up  some  cotton, 
there  lay  a  beautiful  breast-pin.  Then  she  ran  up  to  her 
own  room.  Flora  turned  her  head  and  looked  steadily  out 
of  the  window.  Slowly  an  arm  stole  around  her,  and  her 
husband  whispered  that  he  owed  her  fifty  thousand  millions 
of  dollars,  and  he  hoped  to  pay  a  little  of  the  interest  with 
love  for  her,  and  with  a  little  jewelry.  Then  he  handed  her 
two  little  boxes.  She  opened  them  quick  enough. 

A  good  deal  more  might  be  said,  but  some  of  it  would  be 
mixed  with  land,  for  it  would  be  necessary  to  state  that 
afterwards  he  went  to  the  Legislature.  Much  more  might 
have  been  told  in  filling  the  outlines  of  this  story,  if  it  is 
a  story,  for  only  a  part  has  been  told.  So  many  lies  have 
been  written  with  the  pretence  that  they  are  truths,  that 


PRAIRIE  LIFE   IN   EARLY  DAYS.  221 

only  a  part  of  the  real  history  of  au  actual  living  man  can 
be  told.  The  dose  is  too  strong.  In  the  future  we  may  be 
able  to  stand  more ;  but  whether  we  can  take  the  whole  will 
depend  on  the  way  children  will  be  managed. 

Of  course  the  outline  of  this  history  found  its  way  to  that 
village  in  the  green  grassy  valley.  "  Well,  if  anybody  de 
serves  to  be  happy  it's  she.  My  husband  was  saying  this 
morning  that  he  told  us  at  the  time  that  when  he  heard 
David  kept  building  up  his  mill-dam,  there  was  something 
in  him.  Then  he  told  Henry  he  could  take  a  lesson ;  for, 
says  he,  it  makes  no  odds  whether  it  is  mill-dams  or  anything 
else,  a  body  never  must  give  up ;  and  so  all  through  life 
there  is  something  that  is  not  willing  to  stay,  but  it  must 
be  made  to  stay.  And  now  they  say  David  is  as  rich  as 
mud,  for  he  speculated  in  town  lot &,  and  there  is  a  railroad 
going  through  the  town,  and  there  is  to  be  a  switch  to  the 
mill.  I  dare  say  she  feels  as  grand  as  the  best  with  her 
ear-rings  and  breast-pins,  though  I  think  she  is  too  old  to 
wear  such  things.  Yes,  I  know  she  can  get  her  hair  dyed 
and  all  this.  I  don't  care  a  bit,  though  I  know  she's  proud 
she  has  turned  out  so  well  after  all  her  troubles.  May  be 
she  saw  what  he  was  going  to  make,  but  I  don't  believe  she 
did,  and  I  know  nobody  here  thought  he  would  be  much. 
But  what  are  riches  ?  wre  can't  carry  them  with  us.  If  a 
body  has  a  plenty  to  eat  and  to  wear,  and  not  too  much  to 
do,  all  that  is  wanted  more  is  a  good  rocking-chair  and  time 
to  sit  by  the  window." 


RUNNING  A  MACHINE. 

MR.  WAY  graduated  at  Gambler,  Ohio,  then  studied  law 
and  removed  to  Illinois,  that  he  might  grow  up  with 
the  country.  He  expected  nothing  less  than  to  be  sent 
to  Congress.  Things  prevented.  He  was  not  a  first-rate 
speaker ;  and  there  were  others  as  smart  and  as  ambitious  as 
he.  Besides,  he  had  money  left  him  by  his  father,  and  he 
was  not  obliged  to  tear  himself  to  pieces  in  succeeding  as  a 
politician  and  a  lawyer.  He  would  turn  farmer.  He  bought 
of  the  Government  a  section  of  laud,  that  is,  640  acres,  a 
mile  square,  a  part  was  well  timbered,  the  rest  prairie,  and 
there  were  springs  and  streams.  The  chances  there  to  buy 
such  land  so  cheap  have  forever  past.  But  one  may  go  far- 
ther west.  He  hired  a  hundred  acres  fenced  and  broken  up 
— then  he  set  out  an  orchard  and  built  a  good  house. 

The  next  thing  was  to  get  a  wife.  In  this  he  was  more 
fortunate  than  in  the  law.  He  married  one  of  the  most  cel- 
ebrated women  in  those  parts.  She  was  well  educated,  knew 
how  to  work  and  was  handsome.  Only  two  women  ever 
looked  better — these  were  your  wife  and  mine.  She  weighed 
155  pounds,  her  cheeks  were  rosy  and  white,  her  eyes  melt- 
ing and  blue,  the  flesh  around  her  chin  and  shoulders  was 
full,  and  on  the  whole  she  was  a  charming  woman. 

They  were  well  matched  and  loved  each  other  dearly. 
They  agreed  in  general  things ;  they  differed  just  enough  to 
see  something  new.  Both  were  pious,  temperate  and  well 
bred.  Soon  they  had  a  beautiful  home.  Everything  was 
convenient.  They  had  flowers,  shrubbery,  evergreen  trees, 

(222) 


RUNNING  A   MACHINE.  223 

all  kinds  of  fruit,  apples,  pears,  strawberries,  raspberries,  cur- 
rants. It  was  too  cold  for  peaches.  In  all  their  rooms  were 
carpets,  nice  chairs,  tables,  and  looking-glasses,  and  there 
was  a  piano.  There  were  a  plenty  of  bed-rooms,  there  was 
a  bath-room,  then  an  ice-house  and  all  nice  things.  In  addi- 
tion, and  valued  more  than  all  these,  they  had  a  baby. 

A  farm  life  pleased  them.  Both  had  lived  in  cities,  and 
knew  how  much  more  is  to  be  enjoyed  in  the  country  where 
improvements  are  good.  Of  course  Mr.  Way  could  not  do 
all  the  work ;  to  live  well,  to  meet  expenses,  and  to  save 
something,  the  farm  must  produce  much.  Nothing  remained 
but  to  hire  help.  There  must  be  maid  servants  and  men 
servants. 

The  plan  was  to  make  the  most  of  the  farm.  As  a  first 
help,  Mr.  Way  took  all  the  agricultural  papers  in  the  coun- 
try, bought  the  most  important  books  on  farming,  and  spent 
a  wrhole  year  in  reading,  in  looking  round,  in  talking  with 
the  best  farmers.  Having  in  this  way  acquired  much  theoret- 
ical information,  and  not  being  without  some  practical  knowl- 
edge, he  had  400  acres  of  raw  prairie  broken  up,  and  put  in 
grain  and  grass.  Of  course  he  had  the  best  farm  machiiiery 
he  could  procure. 

To  carry  on  this  farm,  twenty  and  even  thirty  hands  were 
constantly  required,  also  six  span  of  horses,  four  yoke  of  oxen 
and  three  hired  girls.  At  first,  he  undertook  to  hire  the  men 
boarded  in  a  family  living  on  a  part  of  the  farm,  but  the 
hands  were  not  suited,  besides,  it  cost  too  much,  and  he 
boarded  them  himself. 

They  had  stirring  times.  The  kitchen  was  always  lighted 
up  and  warmed  at  least  an  hour  before  daybreak ;  breakfast 
was  eaten  by  candle-light,  or  certainly  a  little  after,  when 
the  men  started  for  their  work.  Then  the  women  would 
wash  the  dishes,  and  put  the  house  in  order,-  wThen  it  was 
time  to  spring  to  and  get  dinner.  The  first  year  of  hiring 
help  Mr.  Way  thought  he  had  a  plenty  of  meat  and  vegeta- 
bles, but  he  had  to  buy  a  supply  for  a  quarter  of  the  time. 
The  next  year  he  planted  so  largely  that  one  man's  time  was 


224  LIFE   IN   THE    WEST. 

required  in  the  gai-den  and  in  taking  care  of  the  hogs,  and  yet 
there  was  none  too  much.  It  is  true  some  pork  was  sold,  but 
not  more  than  enough  to  pay  the  cost  of  raising  the  vegeta- 
bles, and  he  thought  the  result  bad,  though  he  did  not  see 
how  to  mend  it. 

Mrs.  Way  laid  out  the  women's  work,  expecting  to  have  little 
to  do,  but  she  soon  found  that  if  she  was  not  on  hand,  things 
would  go  badly.  She  even  had  to  attend  to  the  raising  and 
baking  of  the  bread,  for  she  never  had  a  woman  who  would 
have  bread  fit  to  eat  more  than  half  of  the  time.  This  was 
proved  to  her  satisfaction.  But  she  made  them  stir  around 
and  was  out  as  soon  as  the  rest.  Her  husband  told  her  not 
to  worry  herself,  that  all  she  need  do  was  to  oversee.  He 
knew  little  what  was  required.  Besides,  she  Avas  ambitious 
and  wanted  to  get  along.  It  must  be  they  would  make  a 
vast  sight  of  money  in  having  so  much  work  done. 

It  was  the  same  with  Mr.  Way.  He  had  to  go  out  with 
the  men,  for,  if  he  did  not,  one  of  them  was  always  ready  to 
tell  a  story,  and  the  rest  had  to  stop  to  hear  it.  Once  he 
arranged  with  a  careful  man  to  take  his  place ;  at  once  there 
was  trouble — they  were  not  going  to  be  ordered  around  as 
if  they  were  slaves.  Hence  he  kept  with  them ;  to  get  full 
days'  work  he  must  set  the  example.  If  he  slacked,  so  would 
they. 

I  kirow  very  well  that  many  large  farmers  have  overseers, 
and  they  take  their  ease  and  ride  around  the  country.  I 
know  too  that  after  awhile  they  ride  around  the  country  to 
borrow  money. 

During  the  winter  season  there  was  not  so  much  to  do, 
and  only  three  or  foair  hands  and  two  girls  were  needed. 
Still  they  kept  busy  in  hauling  wood,  corn  and  hay,  and  in 
taking  care  of  the  stock.  When  the  roads  were  good,  corn 
was  hauled  to  market,  and  usually  the  work  for  the  day  was 
all  finished  and  supper  eaten  by  seven  or  eight  o'clock  at 
night.  This  made  the  winter  pleasant.  Sometimes,  however, 
when  teams  got  fast  in  the  slues,  and  the  men  came  home 
with  the  horses  covered  with  frozen  mud  and  no  wagons, 


RUNNING  A  MACHINE.  225 

sometimes  at  midnight,  and  sometimes  not  till  break  of  day, 
and  everybody  had  to  stir  to  save  the  lives  of  the  horses  and 
get  victuals,  while  perhaps  the  wind  had  shifted,  it  was  cold 
and  the  snow  burst  in  flying  clouds  over  the  prairie ;  then  it 
was  not  so  pleasant. 

Mrs.  Way,  by  managing  her  help,  was  enabled  to  get  shirts 
for  her  husband,  and  by  improving  every  moment  when  she 
sat  down,  she  kept  a  supply  of  stockings.  She  did  pretty 
well  if  she  was  not  forced  to  get  her  own  and  her  children's 
dresses  made  in  town.  I  might  remark  that  by  this  time 
they  had  several  children,  at  least  one  baby  was  constantly 
on  hand,  and  on  a  cold  evening  when  the  men  sat  waiting 
for  their  supper,  you  could  hear  two  or  three  of  them  crying, 
and  somebody  asking  what  the  fuss  was. 

Their  house  was  not  exactly  suited  for  so  many.  Mr. 
Way  intended  to  build  a  house  for  the  hired  men,  but  he 
could  get  no  time,  in  fact,  he  did  not  always  have  money  to 
spare,  and  the  men  sat  in  the  sitting-rooms,  often  leaning  back 
with  their  feet  on  the  side  rounds  of  the  chairs  as  they  told 
their  stories.  Perhaps  it  is  tyrannical  to  attempt  to  keep 
men  from  spitting  when  they  have  been  long  in  the  habit  of 
it.  If  you  provide  spit-boxes  they  will  do  the  best  they  can. 
The  children  were  not  much  in  the  way ;  indeed,  the  men 
liked  to  have  them  around,  so  that  they  could  hear  them  talk, 
and  could  catch  hold  of  them  and  tickle  them.  Most  of  the 
time  Mrs.  Way  had  a  fire  in  the  parlor  and  kept  them  there, 
though  they  turned  things  up  side  down. 

It  was  a  pleasant  sight  when  the  men  were  called  to  their 
meals,  and  a  long  string  of  them  filed  through  the  back  porch 
into  the  kitchen,  though  they  made  so  much  noise  with  their 
boots  as  to  seem  all  boots.  It  was  a  long  table,  and  to  look 
between  them  when  they  were  seated,  reminded  one  of  some 
great  doings,  such  as  the  Fourth  of  July.  Large  dishes  of 
meat  and  potatoes  quickly  disappeared,  and  the  butter  van- 
ished something  as  mortar  does  when  the  mason  is  plastering. 
After  this  came  the  cake,  the  pie,  or  the  pudding,  which 
amused  them  a  few  moments.  A  good  piece  of  rninced-pie 
JO* 


226  LIFE   IN    THE   WEST. 

made  three,  sometimes  four,  mouthsful.  It  is  true  Mr.  Way 
fed  his  hands  better  than  many  large  farmers,  but  he  believed 
it  profitable ;  besides,  when  busy  seasons  came  he  was  sure 
of  help,  which  was  important. 

In  June,  when  strawberries  were  ripe,  it  was  hard  for  Mrs. 
"Way  to  supply  the  table  with  this  fruit — so  many  quarts,  and 
so  much  sugar  and  cream  were  required.  Once  or  twice  she 
tried  to  avoid  it,  but  some  of  the  men  would  find  their  way 
into  the  garden  and  help  themselves;  some,  while  at  the 
table,  would  talk  about  strawberries,  and  others  had  jokes 
about  the  word  strawberry.  So  it  was  regarding  other  fruit ; 
the  dwarf  pears  and  early  apples  did  the  children  very  little 
good.  One  day  Mrs.  Way  went  to  pick  some  Richmond 
cherries ;  she  had  watched  their  ripening,  but  they  were  all 
gone.  Afterwards,  she  showed  to  a  friend  of  hers  the  picture 
of  as  nice  and  as  red  a  cherry  as  you  ever  saw.  Mr.  Way 
attempted  to  reason  with  the  men,  and  told  them  there  was 
not  a  supply  for  all.  In  a  few  hours  he  heard  them  inquire 
of  each  other  whether  we  have  kings  and  nobles  in  this  coun- 
try, and  whether  the  laboring  man  is  a  slave,  the  same  as  in 
England.  Being  a  good-natured  man,  and  anxious  to  man- 
age them,  he  gave  up  the  attempt,  but  he  could  not  clearly 
understand  why  they  imagined  the  word  slave  applied  to 
themselves.  Mrs.  Way,  however,  was  in  the  habit  of  laying 
up  in  her  closet  as  many  boxes  of  cup  honey  as  slie  could  put 
her  hands  on,  and  she  thought  herself  smart  in  so  doing. 

After  some  three  years  had  passed,  and  the  crops  were 
marketed,  and  he  had  time,  he  thought  he  would  look  over 
his  accounts  and  try  to  ascertain  how  he  was  doing.  He 
had  been  having  some  .misgivings.  He  had  a  room  by  him- 
self; he  would  see  scarcely  any  body,  and  he  was  nearly  a 
week  in  getting  everything  together.  One  day  Mrs.  Way 
went  in  to  see  him ;  the  table  was  cleared  of  papers,  he  had 
a  balance  sheet  before  him,  he  had  footed  it  up,  and  he  was 
staring  on  it,  holding  his  pen  over  it,  while  his  legs  were 
under  the  table  twisted  together  like  a  rope.  At  last  he  no- 
ticed her,  he  started  and  looked  almost  displeased,  but  seeing 


RUNNING  A  MACHINE.  227 

how  pale  she  was,  and  reflecting  on  her  care-worn  looks,  he 
smiled,  and  there  returned  some  few  glimmers  from  the  old 
days.  Then  he  told  her  what  it  was.  So  far  as  he  could 
discover,  his  profits  had  been  about  ten  cents  a  day,  some- 
thing like  the  wages  of  a  laborer  in  the  old  country.  This 
would  not  do.  They  must  manage  better,  work  more,  and 
if  possible  live  plainer.  There  was  a  very  large  crop  of 
wheat  on  the  ground,  they  had  three  hundred  stock  hogs, 
and  other  resources,  certainly  they  would  make  money  next 
year ;  by  spring  he  would  have  every  thing  ready ;  nothing 
should  wait. 

Mrs.  "Way  was  hopeful,  but  her  labors  and  cares  were 
making  her  grow  old.  She  hardly  ever  read  anything.  She 
had  no  time  to  hear  her  husband  read,  and  important  events 
occurred  without  her  knowledge.  The  children  had  been 
sick ;  she  spent  many  nights  without  sleep ;  often  she  only 
had  time  to  eat  at  the  second  table.  Surely  they  must  do 
better. 

When  spring  opened,  Mr.  "Way  was  so  fully  prepared  that 
work  commenced  with  the  suddenness  and  energy  of  a  race. 
During  a  few  favorable  days  in  March,  large  breadths  of 
spring  wheat  and  oats  were  sown,  and  so  quickly  was  this 
done  that  many  others  were  only  thinking  about  plowing. 
So  was  it  with  corn  and  other  crops. 

That  year  the  wheat  was  go'od  and  hands  were  scarce,  but 
Mr.  Way  had  a  plenty;  and  when  the  reapers  with  their 
drivers  went  into  the  grain  it  was  a  grand  sight.  Away 
they  went  across  the  ocean-like  field  which  seemed  to  stretch 
almost  to  the  horizon.  The  prairie  chickens  flew  up  before 
them  as  the  sea  gulls  would  rise  before  the  ship  bearing  this 
same  grain  across  the  briny  deep. 

Besides  cutting  the  grain,  there  were  corn  and  other  crops 
to  work.  For  a  long  time  more  than  tAventy  first-class  hands* 
and  several  boys  were  constantly  required.  Five  girls  were 
at  work  in  the  kitchen.  One  day,  as  dinner  was  ready,  and 
all  were  collected,  Mr.  Way  happened  to  ask  himself  the 
question,  what  portion  of  this  help  it  was  which  did  nothing 


228  LIFE   IN   THE   WEST. 

else  but  wait  upon,  and  labor  to  support,  the  other  portion, 
and  were  of  no  service  to  him  ?  Afterwards  he  made  a  cal- 
culation and  found  it  fully  one-half.  This  led  him  to  inves- 
tigate further,  when  he  found  the  number  where  three-fourths 
were  required,  then  seven-eighths,  and  finally,  that  where 
something  less  than  two  hundred  laborers  are  employed  on 
a  farm  managed  as  his  was,  they  would  produce  no  more 
than  enough  to  pay  their  board  and  wages,  and  this  when 
prices  were  good  and  seasons  favorable. 

Dinner  eaten,  and  stories  told,  away  to  work  again.  They 
had  commenced  before  the  sun  dried  the  dew ;  they  will  not 
return  till  the  sun  is  set.  And  thus  it  was,  day  by  day,  week 
by  week,  and  month  by  month.  The  grain  cut,  the  thresh- 
ing-machines were  set  agoing ;  a  train  of  cars  seems  running, 
and  the  straw  flies  high.  Then  grain-buyers  come  around 
and  the  teams  haul  to  the  station.  What  do  they  haul? 
That  which  is  to  enrich  the  fields  of  Old  England.  Mean- 
while, other  teams  break  up  stubble  for  fall  sowing.  After- 
wards comes  the  gathering  of  corn.  One  day  is  like  another, 
only  work  so  crowds  that  the  main  object  seems  to  be  to  do 
more  to-day  than  was  done  yesterday.  In  the  field,  in  the 
barn,  in  the  house,  up  stairs  and  down  stairs,  there  is  no  rest. 
All  things  seem  to  move  faster  and  faster,  as  if  in  a  dizzy 
and  excited  whirl.  Comparing  it  to  an  engine,  one  would 
say  the  parts  were  getting  red  hot.  Mr.  Way  was  Running 
a  Machine. 

At  the  close  of  the  year  he  footed  his  accounts.  He  had 
done  better,  notwithstanding  low  prices.  His  profit  was  a 
thousand  dollars.  He  called  his  wife.  With  a  bright  face 
he  told  how  successful  he  had  been.  She  said  it  was  good 
news.  She  appeared  almost  delighted.  Still,  he  saw  she 
was  thinking  of  something.  What  was  it?  She  asked 
what  per  cent,  this  was  on  his  capital.  He  had  not  thought 
of  this.  It  was  only  one  per  cent.  That  certainly  is  poor 
business.  Then  he  looked  at  her  fading  and  fallen  cheeks ; 
he  remembered  her  slow  step,  and  that  she  was  never  well. 

All  at  once  his  thoughts  changed  and  he  seemed  to  breathe 


RFXNING   A   MACHINE.  229 

another  atmosphere.  He  asked  himself  if  the  thousand,  if 
ten,  twenty,  or  fifty  thousand  dollars,  could  compensate  for 
the  loss  of  her  beauty,  for  her  troubles  and  deprivations, 
and  for  the  evident  approach  of  premature  old  age  ? 

Then,  she  had  been  wanting  to  say  some  things ;  he  had  time 
to  listen  now.  He  must  build  an  addition  to  the  house  suit- 
able for  the  family  to  live  in.  The  walls  of  all  the  rooms, 
above  and  below,  were  soiled  and  defaced,  even  the  thresh- 
olds of  the  doors  were  worn  out  with  the  nails  of  heavy 
boots.  Almost  every  carpet  was  worn  out,  the  bedclothes 
were  in  tatters,  the  bedsteads  and  furniture  were  broken  and 
rusty,  and'  she  was  ashamed  to  have  company,  for  she  had 
no  decent  place  to  receive  them.  As  things  were,  she  could 
have  no  comfort  or  peace.  He  would  remember  bringing 
her  two  boxes  of  grapes  after  theirs  had  disappeared,  and 
they  had  so  many.  The  girls  had  seen  the  empty  boxes  with 
the  picture  of  grapes  on  them,  and  she  had  heard  them  talk- 
ing about  it,  saying  she  was  so  selfish  she  had  not  offered 
them  one ;  and  "  Oh,  she  was  so  mean." 

Mr.  Way  decided  he  would  run  a  machine  no  longer.  He 
would  reserve  forty  acres  of  land,  the  rest  he  would  rent. 
His  wife  might  have  a  hired  girl ;  as  for  himself  he  would 
have  nobody  about.  He  carried  out  this  plan.  There  were 
enough  wanting  to  rent  land.  He  dictated  how  they  should 
manage  it ;  some  fields  might  be  plowed,  some  must  be  put 
in  grass.  Those  who  expected  to  work  for  him  were  disap- 
pointed. In  few  places  could  they  find  as  good  fare. 

Although  they  had  several  children,  the  house  became 
remarkably  still.  One  of  their  pleasures  was  to  linger  at 
the  table  and  tell  each  other  how  much  they  enjoyed.  For 
nearly  a  year  Mrs.  "Way  seemed  to  be  drawing  a  long  sigh. 
After  that  her  health,  and  many  of  her  charms  returned. 
Some  never  returned. 

Again,  at  the  end  of  the  year  Mr.  "Way  footed  up  his  ac- 
counts. He  had  moderately  worked  his  forty  acres,  had  a 
a  little  help  where  men  could  board  themselves,  had  spent 
much  time  in  taking  his  wife  to  fairs,  public  meetings,  and 


230  LIFE   IN   THE  WEST. 

in  several  little  journeys,  and  yet,  Irom  this  and  from  the 
rent,  he  had  cleared  between  two  and  three  thousand  dollars. 
He  received  several  hundred  dollars  from  his  orchard,  and 
they  had  abundance  of  all  kinds  of  fruit  for  their  own  use. 

The  next  year  there  were  good  crops  and  high  prices. 
Mr.  Way  rented  three  hundred  acres,  which  were  planted  in 
corn.  His  share,  put  in  the  crib,  was  about  five  thousand 
bushels,  and  for  which  he  got  a  dollar  a  bushel.  He  had 
some  wheat  besides.  And  yet  he  offered  all  but  one  hun- 
dred and  twenty  acres  of  his  land  for  sale.  He  wished  no 
larger  farm  for  himself  and  his  two  boys.  Long  experience  led 
him  to  the  conclusion  that  no  farmer  can  do  justice  to  more 
than  forty  acres.  Such  a  farm  he  himself  can  control — it 
will  bring  him  all  that  makes  life  desirable.  He  says  that 
when  the  taxes  and  the  repairs,  added  to  the  cares  and  the 
inevitable  decay  befalling  rented  land  are  considered,  it  is 
better  to  invest  in  government  securities. 

This  result  will  surprise  those  who  are  proposing  to  farm 
on  a  large  scale,  but  it  has  followed  in  thousands  of  other 
cases ;  indeed,  I  might  say,  in  every  case  where,  one  has  a 
mind  comprehensive  enough  to  view  the  whole  subject.  To 
many,  however,  this  conclusion  comes  late,  and  in  their  last 
hours  they  regret  that  they  attempted  so  much,  for  they  see 
that  Providence  has  wisely  limited  human  efforts  to  bound- 
aries within  which  the  greatest  number  of  people  can  be 
made  happy. 


A  FORTUNATE  CALAMITY. 

TWERY  body  thought  that  Deacon  Miller's  Rebecca  was 
_LJ  g°m§'  to  do  well  in  having  Mr.  Quirk.  He  was  a  little 
old,  but  he  had  a  farm  and  money  at  interest.  People  were 
glad  he  was  going  to  be  married  at  last,  he  had  been  to 
see  so  many  girls,  they  were  tired  of  talking  about  him. 
Perhaps  the  deacon  was  glad  too ;  he  wanted  his  girls  to  do 
well ;  but  two  of  them  besides  Rebecca  were  women  grown, 
another  soon  would  be,  and  he  had  five  boys,  two  of  them 
young  men ;  it  is  likely  he  thought  it  time  for  some  of  them 
to  thin  out. 

Deacon  Miller  lived  on  the  Susquehanna,  in  the  State  of 
"ISTew  York ;  his  farm  was  large  enough,  but  only  thirty  acres 
were  on  the  bottom,  the  rest  was  hilly,  and  the  whole  having 
been  cultivated  a  long  time  had  become  thin.  For  the  last  few 
years  crops  had  been  short ;  they  even  had  to  buy  some  corn. 
This  would  not  do.  They  must  save  manure.  They  saved 
it.  They  got  muck  out  of  swamps,  hauled  leaves,  made  com- 
post, and  worked  hard.  Surely  there  would  be  good  crops 
now.  They  plowed  and  they  hoed,  and  all  summer  long  one 
and  another  guessed  how  much  they  would  have..  They 
were  disappointed.  They  made  the  compost  go  too  far.  It 
was  doubtful  if  all  they  had  should  not  have  been  put  on  an 
acre.  The  boys  grew  discouraged.  They  said  they  did  not 
mind  working,  but  to  work  on  such  land  was  throwing  away 
their  time.  One  went  to  school-teaching ;  another  hired  out 
by  the  month.  And  yet  by  no  means  was  the  farm  to  be 
despised.  They  had  sheep  and  sold  wool ;  they  made  butter 

(231) 


232  LIFE   IN   THE   WEST. 

and  cheese;  they  had  eggs  and  honey;  the  house  was  large 
and  every  thing  was  comfortable. 

The  deacon  had  said  the  boys  could  do  Avell  enough  with 
a  common-school  education ;  the  girls  ought  to  have  a  better 
chance.  Rebecca  went  to  school  a  year  at  Elmira.  She 
came  home  looking  like  a  lady ;  then  Mr.  Quirk  came  to  see 
her.  He  was  quite  smitten  and  asked  her  consent.  Her 
father  seeing  how  well  she  succeeded,  sent  the  next  girl  to 
school.  In  doing  thus  he  borrowed  some  money ;  he  was  in 
debt  at  the  stores  before ;  in  all,  he  owed  about  three  hun- 
dred dollars. 

Deacon  Miller  wras  a  plain  honest  man ;  he  was  liked  by 
all  the  church.  Naturally  he  was  so  wTell  disposed  that  he 
was  made  deacon  when  he  was  rather  young.  He  kept  well 
informed  on  various  subjects.  When  he  was  convinced  that 
his  farm  was  run  down,  he  went  to  studying  agriculture;  he 
determined  to  make  his  land  good  again.  He  and  the  boys 
studied  the  subject  and  labored  together;  though  two  of 
them  had  left,  the  rest  worked  on,  and  they  made  some  head- 
way. They  took  an  acre  at  a  time  and  put  all  their  compost 
on  it.  The  first  year  the  result  was  fair ;  they  put  on  more ; 
the  second  year  things  grew  wonderfully.  It  produced  more 
than  they  had  been  in  the  habit  of  getting  from  many  acres. 
Still  their  family  was  so  large  that  this  help  was  not  great, 
and  they  easily  saw  that  to  make  the  thirty  acres  of  bottom 
ground  equally  good  would  take  many  years.  Then  they 
talked  about  small  farms,  and  ten  acres  being  enough.  They 
said  if  the  farm  were  divided  among  a  dozen  Germans  they 
would  bring  it  to.  Other  people  are  talking  in  the  same 
manner.  Perhaps  there  is  no  other  way  of  restoring  our 
worn-out  farms  than  to  have  the  Germans  take  them.  This 
is  a  question  of  the  greatest  national  importance.  Our  sol- 
diers fought  for  a  fine  country ;  unless  farming  is  carried  on 
better,  the  time  will  come  when  the  country  will  not  be 
worth  fighting  for.  In  studying  the  subject,  the  deacon  and 
his  boys  concluded  grass  would  pay  best.  They  harrowed 
the  old  meadows,  put  on  a  mixture  of  seed,  timothy,  clover, 


A   FORTUNATE   CALAMITY.  233 

red-top,  blue-grass,  and  orchard-grass,  and,  when  they  could, 
let  water  over  it  from  the  hills.  This  was  their  most  success- 
ful enterprise.  Then  they  got  more  cows  and  some  sheep ; 
they  thought  they  would  succeed.  Still  they  felt  the  need 
of  good  plow-land  so  that  they  could  raise  their  bread. 

The  time  when  Rebecca  was  to  be  married  had  not  been 
fixed.  In  fact,  the  family  became  a  little  uneasy.  Still,  Mr. 
Quirk  came  to  see  her  every  other  "Wednesday,  for  the  deacon 
would  have  no  courting  going  on  Sunday  night.  At  just 
such  an  hour  he  would  knock  and  come  in.  All  of  them 
knew  his  day.  The  house  was  put  in  order,  baking  was 
done,  and  each  had  clean  clothes.  One  of  the  boys  would 
go  out,  unharness  his  horse,  or  take  off  the  saddle,  put  him 
in  the  barn  and  feed  him  a  peck  of  oats  and  the  rack  full  of 
hay.  He  lived  five  or  six  miles  distant,  and  always  came 
before  supper;  the  deacon's  wife  kept  supper  back  so  that 
he  could  sit  down  with  the  rest.  The  table-cloth  was  the 
whitest,  the  bread  the  lightest,  the  chickens  and  the  cake  the 
richest,  and  the  tea  the  strongest.  He  was  much  at  home 
among  them.  He  showed  the  boys  how  to  do  sums,  how  to 
make  traps ;  he  told  stories ;  the  deacon  told  stories ;  the 
girls  stepped  around  spruce  enough ;  their  mother  spoke  in 
her  gentlest  voice,  and  wore  her  sweetest  smile  and  finest 
cap  ribbon.  Rebecca  sat  sewing;  one  only  saw  her  eye- 
lashes. At  decent  bed-time  all  went  to  bed,  leaving  them  in 
the  parlor  to  take  care  of  themselves. 

Things  went  on  this  way  over  six  months.  Mrs.  Miller 
asked  her  daughter  how  it  was.  She  said  she  did  not  know. 
"  Well,  what  did  he  say  about  it  ?"  "  Nothing !"  "  Nothing  ?" 
She  was  not  going  to  have  this  work.  The  next  time  he 
came  she  must  find  out.  Rebecca  was  in  great  distress. 
How  could  she  ?  "Well,  she  could  ask  him  herself.  Oh,  she 
must  not !  She  could  not  bear  it.  When  Mr.  Quirk  came 
again  he  was  well  received,  but  there  were  sly  looks,  many 
long  pauses.  He  paid  no  attention  to  them.  Mrs.  Miller 
concluded  she  would  say  nothing,  and  another  month  went  by. 
Then  people  began  to  talk.  They  thought  they  had  got 


234  LIFE  IN  THE  WEST. 

rid  of  him,  but  here  he  was  again !  What  did  the  man 
mean  ?  If  they  were  in  Rebecca's  place  they  would  sack  him 
quick.  At  last  it  was  reported  that  he  was  asked  when  he 
was  going  to  marry  her,  he  said  he  had  not  made  up  his 
mind  whether  he  would  marry  her  at  all.  The  next  time  he 
came  Rebecca  had  gone  to  see  a  neighbor.  Could  they  tell 
when  she  would  come  back  ?  They  could  not.  He  went  oif 
without  seeing  her.  Rebecca  got  another  beau.  She  and 
her  mother  had  an  idea  that  when  he  heard  of  it,  he  would 
come  in  haste  to  see  about  it.  He  did  not  come  at  all.  He 
said  he  understood  it.  Then  she  dismissed  her  beau.  If  any 
on'e  else  tried  he  got  the  mitten.  She  had  many  sad  and 
lonesome  hours.  She  was  twenty-two ;  what  was  to  become 
of  her  she  did  not  know.  She  would  sit  by  the  fire-place 
with  her  work  in  her  lap  and  look  into  the  fire.  When  she 
went  to  meeting  people  felt  sorry  for  her.  Mothers  agreed 
that  if  he  did  not  marry  her  he  should  fool  with  none  of  their 
girls. 

Then  came  a  great  calamity.  One  night  in  February, 
about  two  o'clock,  the  deacon  waked  up ;  he  could  hardly 
breathe.  Through  the  window  he  saw  a  bright  light  on  the 
snow ;  then  he  heard  some  one  up  stairs  calling  to  him,  and 
saying  the  house  was  on  fire.  He  sprang  out  of  bed  and 
partly  dressed.  He  opened  the  sitting-room  door ;  all  was 
thick  smoke.  As  he  ran  up  stairs  he  met  some  of  the  chil- 
dren coming  down ;  others  were  asleep ;  he  tore  them  out  of 
their  beds  ;  the  fire  was  running  up  behind  the  lathing,  and 
snapping  in  the  garret.  Getting  out  doors  he  saw  the  roof 
was  on  fire.  The  building  was  two  stories ;  if  they  had  a 
plenty  of  water  they  could  not  put  it  out ;  besides,  they  had 
no  ladder  long  enough.  Mrs.  Miller  got  out  the  clothes  of 
her  own  bed ;  she  wanted  to  save  more  bedding  and  some 
dresses.  It  was  too  late.  She  had  got  her  own  clothes. 
Women  have  to  get  up  nightly  to  see  to  the  children ;  they 
can  always  lay  their  hands  on  their  clothes  ;  she  reached  into 
the  buttery  window  and  got  out  her  silver  tea-spoons,  a  few 
tumblers,  and  a  deep  dish — she  was  determined  to  have  this, 


A   FORTUNATE    CALAMITY.  235 

she  did  not  know  where  to  get  another;  it  was  so  handy 
when  they  boiled  victuals.  The  night  was  cold ;  the  mercury 
down  to  zero.  The  girls  cried  as  they  huddled  together  on 
the  feather  bed  and  peeped  through  the  quilts,  looking  at  the 
fire  ;  only  those  who  slept  in  their  stockings  had  any  thing 
on  their  feet.  Mr.  Miller  and  his  boys  tried  to  save  a  few 
things ;  they  got  out  some  chairs,  a  parlor  stove  and  some 
trifles.  In  a  short  time  Mr.  Miller  told  them  to  keep  clear, 
for  the  roof  was  going  to  fall  in ;  then  it  fell  and  the  fire 
blazed  far  into  the  sky. 

Mrs.  Miller  sat  in  her  rocking-chair  and  was  warmed  by 
her  burning  house.  At  first  she  had  cried  bitterly  with  the 
rest ;  then  she  became  more  calm  and  thought  how  the  labors 
of  their  whole  life  were  burning  up.  There,  up  with  the  in- 
tense heat,  went  her  feather  beds,  her  pillows  and  pillow- 
cases and  bolsters,  her  quilts,  her  blankets  and  sheets,  her 
chests  full  of  dress-patterns,  patch-work,  pieces  of  bleached 
and  brown  factory,  and  many  things  she  expected  to  use ; 
her  bureau  with  its  drawers  of  ironed  pillow-cases,  towels, 
tuble-cloths,  fine  shirts,  linen  and  cambric  handkerchiefs,  silk 
shawls,  kid  and  lisle-thread  gloves,  pretty  gilt  boxes,  lace 
and  worked  collars,  and  hundreds  of  nice  things ;  the  clothes- 
press,  with  Mr.  Miller's  Sunday  clothes,  and  the  boys'  Sun- 
day clothes,  the  girls'  nice  bonnets  on  the  shelves,  the  um- 
brellas and  parasols ;  her  stands,  with  the  drawers  of  all  sorts 
of  useful  things,  pins,  combs,  needles,  thread,  buttons,  knit- 
ting-work ;  the  children's  money ;  then  the  nice  spare  bed  in 
the  spare  bed-room,  where  hung  the  girls'  best  dresses  and 
her  own,  their  Bay  State  shawls,  their  muffs  and  fur  capes 
and  wristlets ;  their  parlor,  with  the  nice  chairs,  large  look- 
ing-glass, mahogany  table,  the  carpet,  the  girls'  melodeon, 
which  cost  so  much,  the  pictures,  the  family  record,  the  big 
Bible  and  the  gilt-edged  books ;  then  all  the  things  up-stairs 
in  the  rooms,  two  barrels  of  dried  apples — she  wished  she 
had  sold  them — seven  good  bedsteads  and  the  bed-clothes, 
all  the  boys  every-day  clothes,  her  large  and  little  spinning- 
wheels,  and  all  her  rolls  and  flax  and  yarn ;  there  were  two 


236  LIFE  IN  THE  WEST. 

full  sets  of  good  chairs,  and  a  great  many  old  clothes,  good  to 
wear  in  wet  weather,  or  to  piece  with  and  make  rag  carpets, 
all  burning  and  most  gone;  then  there  was  the  kitchen  and 
buttery  burning ;  the  place  where  she  used  to  sit  and  sew  and 
mend  by  the  east  window  was  a  sheet  of  flame,  and  the  old 
kitchen  rocking-chair  she  used  to  sit  in ;  all  the  knives  and 
forks  and  plates  and  platters  and  tumblers  and  pitchers  and 
wooden  bowls,  tin-ware  and  stove-ware ;  a  wide  shelf  full  of 
cheese,  and  there  was  the  bread,  and  long  rows  of  sausage 
links,  and  dried  beef.  Oh,  dear !  they  had  just  got  twenty 
bushels  of  wheat  and  ten  of  corn  ground ;  and  the  cook-stove, 
and  the  iron-ware  and  the  baking-tins  would  be  ruined ;  down 
cellar  too  the  fire  was  falling ;  it  was  rolling  out  of  the  win- 
dow and  melting  the  snow ;  there  was  their  beef  and  pork, 
there  was  her  barrel  of  thick  soap,  and  the  candles,  the  lard 
and  the  tallow,  all  their  apples,  the  half-barrel  of  apple  sauce, 
and  every  pot  of  her  pear,  her  quince,  her  cherry  and  plum 
preserves,  and  their  good  sharp  pickles,  their  cider  and  vine- 
gar, their  potatoes  and  ruta-bagas,  beets  and  onions ;  there 
too  was  the  jug  of  sacrament  wine;  more  than  this  the  pitcher 
and  goblets  up-stairs.  Oh,  dear !  all  burning  into  ashes. 
They  were  worse  than  beggars — they  had  not  even  rags  to 
wear. 

Mr.  Miller  and  the  boys  had  cried  fire  to  the  top  of  their 
voices,  and  the  neighbors  came.  The  first  one,  seeing  how 
matters  stood,  hurried  back  home,  hitched  his  oxen  to  the 
sled,  and  putting  on  bed-clothes  returned  with  his  cattle  on 
the  run.  Mrs.  Miller  and  the  girls  got  in,  Mr.  Miller  and  the 
boys  got  in,  glad  to  wrap  themselves  in  blankets.  A  good 
fire,  started  with  pickets  from  the  garden  fence,  was  burning ; 
in  they  rushed,  they  filled  the  room ;  they  crowded  round 
the  fire ;  some  were  crying,  some  chattering ;  it  was,  oh, 
dear !  and  what  would  they  do  ?  The  whole  neighborhood 
was  aroused ;  young  men  ran  from  house  to  house  telling  the 
doleful  news  ;  others  ran  in  with  armsful  of  clothes ;  one 
girl  sent  hers  to  Rebecca ;  one  hers  to  Ernmeline ;  one  hers  to 
Mary;  one  hers  to  Jane;  one,  hers  to  Susan.  The  young 


A   FORTUNATE   CALAMITY.  237 

men  sent  theirs  to  the  brothers,  and  in  a  short  lime  all  had 
clothes  to  wear.  When  day  broke  the  deacon  and  his  neigh- 
bors went  to  look  at  the  fire ;  they  saw  only  blazing  timbers; 
While  they  were  there  his  two  sons  came ;  one  from  his  school, 
the  other  from  the  farm  where  he  worked.  People  kept  com- 
ing during  all  this  time;  the  deacon  did -not  shed  a  tear;  he 
had  seen  some  things  in  his  day,  but  nothing  like  this.  Fre- 
quently his  lips  moved,  but  he  did  not  speak. 

The  first  thing  to  do  was  to  separate  the  family,  Mr. 
Miller  and  his  wife  at  one  house,  the  children  in  pairs  at 
other  houses,  for  each  farmer  had  a  spare  bed. 

By  nine  o'clock,  four  men  started  out  with  ox-teams  on 
four  different  roads.  Of  these  two  were  deacons  and  one 
was  the  minister.  The  other  was  a  man  who  had  said  many 
hard  things  about  the  deacon.  They  had  quarrelled  for 
years.  The  man  thought  it  was  a  good  time  to  make  up. 
He  was  not  a  church-member,  but  afterwards  he  became  one. 

Coming  to  a  house  they  would  go  in.  What  could  they 
spare  for  Deacon  Miller's  family  ?  They  wanted  everything. 
Certainly  we  will  help  them.  Some  gave  bedding,  some 
clothes,  some  meat,  some  butter,  candles,  pots  of  preserves 
and  apple-sauce,  boxes  of  honey,  milk-pans,  stoneware,  pails, 
tubs;  some  money.  The  merchants  gave  whole  bolts  of 
calico,  factory,  and  remnants,  tea,  coffee  and  sugar.  They 
had  to  do  it.  They  knew  their  fate  if  they  did  not.  One 
of  the  deacons  went  a  considerable  out  of  the  way  to  call 
on  Mr.  Quirk.  He  did  not  hesitate  long,  and  he  pulled  out 
five  dollars.  Some  of  the  women  said  he  owed  the  deacon 
more  than  that  for  board. 

Meanwhile  the  deacon  and  his  boys  had  a  crowd  of  men 
with  them  making  the  wagon-house  fit  to  live  in.  It  was  a 
frame,  weather-boarded  building,  twenty  by  twenty-four, 
with  a  plank  floor  and  one  window,  and  was  painted  red. 
One  end  was  used  for  a  stable,  and  there  was  a  loft  for  hay. 
First,  they  got  in  a  stove.  One  man  had  some  mortar  in 
his  cellar ;  they  built  a  flue ;  places  were  cut  for  windows, 
sashes,  with  glass,  were  ready  to  put  in ;  they  boarded  up  the 


238  LIFE   IN  THE  WEST. 

sides ;  the  girls  might  paper  when  they  got  time ;  a  partition 
Avas  run  through  the  middle ;  on  one  side  they  built  a  but- 
tery. By  sundown  it  was  finished.  Then  the  four  men  with 
ox-teams  came  back  loaded.  The  next  day  the  family  moved 
in.  They  Avere  crowded,  but  they  got  along.  Some  of  the 
girls  only  came  to  see  them.  Their  mates  Avantcd  them  to 
live  with  them  so  bad.  Their  IICAV  house  Avas  good  for  some- 
thing beside  to  liATe  in.  They  could  meet  and  consider 
Avhat  Avas  best  to  do.  People  had  given  liberally.  They 
had  provisions  which  would  last  till  they  could  raise  more. 
But  they  were  destitute  of  a  thousand  things. 

They  had  their  days  of  council,  or  thought  they  had.  The 
two  oldest  boys  Avould  meet  after  dark  in  the  school-house. 
At  last  they  decided.  Then  they  came  home  and  got  their 
mother  to  agree  to  their  plan.'  The  deacon  was  told  what  it 
Avas.  They  had  better  sell  the  farm  and  moAre  west.  Their 
father  looked  around  from  one  to  another,  then  said  he 
thought  they  were  right.  Afterwards  they  Avere  a  little 
mortified  to  learn  that  this  had  been  his  opinion  from  the 
very  first.  Yes,  the  land  Avould  sell  any  day ;  Avith  the 
money  they  could  get  land  they  would  be  willing  to  work. 

The  deacon  Avrote  to  his  friends  out  west.  The  West  is 
like  the  grave.  Who  has  not  lost  a  friend — Avho  has  not 
a  friend  out  west?  New  settlers  knoAV  what  is  best  for 
them.  They  cannot,  and  do  not  want  to  buy  all  the  land. 
When  speculators  or  those  they  do  not  like  come  round,  the 
land  is  all  entered.  Sometimes  on  going  to  the  land-office 
they  find  crooked  work.  The  answer  came  ;  they  knew  of 
four  eighty s  that  could  not  fail  to  suit  him.  The  railroad 
would  come  through  next  year ;  he  had  better  send  out  one 
of  the  boys  with  the  money.  They  were  trying  to  start  a 
church ;  he  could  do  so  much  good.  Then  their  land  was 
sold  for  three  thousand  dollars.  His  stock  and  house  prop- 
erty would  sell  for  enough  to  pay  their  debts  and  to  take 
them  thither. 

Then  everybody  knew  of  it.  They  Avere  sorry  to  lose 
such  a  family,  but  perhaps  it  was  for  their  good.  Rebecca 


A    FORTUXATE    CALAMITY.  239 

and  her  mother  were  anxious  to  knoAV  what  Mr.  Quirk  would 
do.  They  expected  he  would  show  himself.  He  did  come, 
riding  a  fat  horse  and  wearing  his  best  clothes.  He  looked 
around  the  sides  of  the  house  and  overhead.  He  under- 
stood they  were  going  west.  Yes.  He  hoped  they  would 
do  well.  It  was  evident  he  did  not  mean  to  explain  himself 
unless  they  should  speak  first.  He  came  again.  He  seemed 
to  want  something  and  hung  around.  Rebecca  put  on  her 
bonnet  and  that  was  the  last  he  saw  of  her.  The  first  thing 
he  knew  they  were  gone. 

On  reaching  their  new  home  they  found  their  son,  the 
school-teacher,  with  a  house  ready.  The  people  were  glad 
to  see  them.  Everything  was  new.  All  the  folks  were 
encouraged ;  they,  also,  caught  the  spirit.  The  boys  went 
to  work ;  they  were  going  to  help  the  old  man  get  a  start, 
then  they  were  going  for  themselves.  Each  one  had  a  deed 
of  forty  acres ;  there  were  one  hundred  and  sixty  acres  for 
the  homestead.  Here  things  were  to  be  made  comfortable, 
and  put  in  the  best  condition.  It  is  difficult  to  say  which 
goes  farthest,  and  which  makes  most  show,  a  few  thousand 
dollars  to  lay  out  in  improvements,  or  a  few  able  and  willing 
young  men.  Both  together  work  wonders.  But  there  must 
be  a  head,  that  does  not  get  dizzy,  to  guide.  The  boys 
seemed  never  to  tire  talking  about  the  land.  One  thing  they 
dwelt  on  and  were  agreed.  Here  was  fresh  land,  some  said 
it  never  would  wear  out.  They  did  not  believe  it.  They 
would  save  manure,  sow  clover,  and  keep  it  good.  Those 
coming  after  them  should  not  say  they  ruined  the  land. 
For  a  good  farmer  in  the  West,  let  us  have  the  one  who,  by 
skill  and  labor,  has  given  worn-out  land  a  breath  of  life.  He 
has  quick,  new,  and  true  ideas. 

When  Mr.  Miller  and  the  girls  looked  around,  they  saw 
the  chances  were  good.  There  were  more  young  men  in  the 
country  than  there  were  girls.  As  a  general  thing,  girls  are 
good  property  out  west.  One  hears  of  places  east  where 
they  are  called  a  drug,  and  yet  they  are  the  best  kind  of 
girls.  Such  girls  as  the  deacon's  were  not  to  be  found  every- 


240  LIFE   IN   THE  WEST. 

where.  By  the  run  of  things,  they  saw  that  they  could  take 
their  choice.  It  was  for  them  to  hold  fast  or  loose,  just  as 
they  pleased. 

The  second  year  the  deacon  had  some  apples.  He  bought 
a  hundred  of  the  largest  nursery  trees ;  the  freight  was 
enormous ;  he  did  not  care,  and  he  scarcely  missed  his  old 
orchard.  He  and  the  boys  studied  what  crop  would  pay 
best.  They  decided  on  broom  corn  and  castor  beans.  People 
called  them  sharp.  The  second  year  they  made  enough  to 
build  a  fine  house.  They  had  the  ground  around  it  laid  out 
on  a  wide  scale.  There  was  room  for  flowers,  shade-trees, 
shrubbery  and  evergreens.  The  out-buildings  Avere  retired. 
The  railroad  came  through  and  did  a  good  business.  It  is 
called  the  Cedar  Valley  Road. 

One  morning  after  breakfast,  when  prayer  was  said,  and 
they  had  begun  to  sing  a  hymn,  Mrs.  Miller  happened  to  be 
looking  out  of  the  window  and  saw  a  stranger  come  through 
the  gate.  He  seemed  to  hear  the  singing ;  he  stopped  and 
wiped  his  feet  on  the  blue  grass,  while  he  looked  up  and 
down  and  around. 

The  hymn  was  about  the  designs  of  Providence.  To  per- 
form His  wonders,  He  moves  in  a  mysterious  way.  He 
rides  upon  the  storm,  by  land  and  sea.  His  skill  is  not  to 
to  be  fathomed.  His  bright  designs  are  treasured  up.  Let 
no  saint  be  fearful.  The  cloud  which  seems  so  fearful  will 
break  in  blessings.  Judge  Him  not  with  weak  minds.  He 
hides  a  smiling  face  behind  a  frowning  providence.  The 
bud  may  be  bitter,  the  flower  will  be  sweet.  In  due  time, 
He  will  interpret  his  plans. 

When  they  had  finished  the  stranger  came  in.  It  was 
Mr.  Quirk.  At  last  he  had  come  for  Rebecca.  He  would 
speak  now.  Every  one  in  the  family  knew  it.  Every  one 
uttered  a  pleasant  cry  of  surprise.  Mrs.  Miller  took  the 
lead  and  most  heartily  shook  his  hand.  The  girls  and  boys, 
one  after  another,  shook  his  hand.  Rebecca  freely  gave  her 
hand,  but  did  not  raise  her  eyes  high.  Mr.  Miller  was  a 
little  sober,  but  was  glad  to  see  him.  He  had  not  been  to 


A   FORTUNATE   CALAMITY.  241 

breakfast,  had  he  ?  No,  he  just  got  off  the  train.  They 
flew  around  and  got  him  a  good  breakfast.  He  had  not 
known  how  he  would  be  received.  He  saw  he  was  still 
their  favorite ;  he  took  his  comfort. 

The  boys  did  not  go  to  work  for  several  hours.  The  girls 
dressed  themselves  up  and  Mrs.  Miller  went  to  cooking.  He 
heard  them  inquire  for  the  receipt-book,  they  wanted  to 
make  turkey  stuffing.  He  could  tell  by  the  smell  that  they 
were  baking  sweet-cake  and  pies.  One  of  the  boys  went  to 
the  store  for  groceries,  and  had  raisins  around.  Seeing  how 
well  off  they  were,  Mr.  Quirk  remarked  they  did  not  lose 
much  in  having  their  house  burnt  down.  The  deacon  said, 
that  so  far  as  it  appeared  to  him,  it  would  have  been  a  good 
thing  if  the  house  had  burned  down  ten  years  before.  Mrs. 
Miller  said  they  got  rid  of  all  their  old  trumpery;  now, 
everything  was  new. 

During  the  day  several  young  people  came  out  from  the 
village.  Mr.  Quirk  could  not  see  but  they  looked  full  as 
well  as  they  did  elsewhere.  The  day  passed  pleasantly. 
Unfortunately  it  so  happened  that  one  of  the  boys  was  with 
him  all  the  time,  and  he  could  not  speak  to  Rebecca.  He 
peeped  into  the  parlor,  but  there  was  no  fire.  He  saw  wood 
and  kindling;  a  match  would  set  it  in  a  blaze.  He  became 
the  least  bit  suspicious,  and  talked  about  being  sleepy.  Yes, 
they  had  not  thought  he  must  be  sleepy  after  his  long  jour- 
ney. They  had  forgotten  themselves^  talking  so  with  an  old 
friend.  They  would  show  him  the  way.  In  the  morning 
he  peeped  into  the  parlor.  There  had  been  no  fire.  Every 
one  was  so  friendly,  it  must  be  all  right. 

One  of  the  boys  took  him  out  to  look  at  the  farm.  He 
must  look  at  this  and  that.  First-rate,  first-rate.  He  wanted 
to  talk  with  him  about  Rebecca.  He  would  talk  fast  about 
something  else.  He  tried  the  other  boys.  He  saw  that  they 
knew  enough  to  keep  their  mouths  shut. 

They  had  a  most  excellent  dinner.  Rebecca  was  charm- 
ing. As  on  the  day  before,  the  girls  dressed  up.  He  thought 
they  must  be  very  rich,  or,  more  likely,  it  was  on  his  account. 
11 


242  LIFE   IN    THE   WEST. 

He  presumed  it  was  all  right.  Mrs.  Miller  looked  very  spruce 
in  a  new  black  dress.  After  a  while,  company  dropped  in. 
Some  were  quite  merry.  They  must  be  rich  out  west  to 
dress  so  well.  But  the  land  was  good.  Then  a  gentleman 
came  in  a  buggy.  One  of  the  boys  put  out  his  horse.  He 
was  a  man  rather  old,  and  looked  like  a  minister.  More 
folks  came.  Mr.  Quirk  was  introduced  to  them.  He  grew 
dizzy.  The  room  was  full.  Then  the  deacon  came  out  in  a 
neat  black  suit.  Next,  he  was  introduced  to  a  fine-looking 
gentleman  who  seemed  to  enjoy  himself  about  something, 
and  yet  was  a  little  embarrassed. 

He  soon  found  out  what  all  these  things  meant.  There 
was  a  wedding  on  hand.  Rebecca  was  going  to  be  married. 
He  sat  and  saw  her  married.  One  next  to  him  told  him  how 
well  off  and  what  a  fine  man  her  husband  was.  The  even- 
ing train  took  a  passenger  who  came  up  the  day  before. 


TAKING  AN  APPRENTICE. 

MR.  KERR  was  a  machinist.  He  had  a  shop  in  town 
where  he  did  brass,  iron  and  wood-work,  and  he  made 
patterns.  He  kept  busy  himself  and  he  had  two  journey- 
men the  year  round.  His  house  was  a  mile  from  town ; 
there  were  ten  acres,  a  small  orchard  of  all  kinds  of  fruit, 
a  good  garden,  the  house  was  finished  throughout,  and  every- 
thing was  pleasant.  By  industry  he  had  made  this  prop- 
erty ;  no  one  was  more  independent.  His  wife  was  a  good 
housekeeper ;  most  of  the  time  she  had  a  hired  girl ;  his 
hired  men  boarded  with  him ;  they  set  a  good  table ;  only 
one  thing  was  wanting.  People  wondered  why  they  did 
not  get  it. 

The  reason  why  Mr.  Kerr  and  his  wife  did  not  get  it  was 
because  they  were  not  ready.  When  they  first  married  they 
read  the  life  of  Henry  C.  Wright,  and  agreed  that  the  doc- 
trines he  teaches  are  true.  Brother  Wright  says  it  is  a  cruel 
shame  for  married  people  just  so  soon  as  they  get  a  roof  to 
cover  themselves  to  entice  bits  of  young  persons  to  come  and 
live  with  them.  They  should  wait  till  they  have  things  com- 
fortable ;  land  must  be  paid  for,  d^ebts  settled ;  there  must  be 
apples  on  the  trees  or  in  the  cellar,  the  house  must  be  finished 
off,  the  rooms  must  have  good  furniture,  drawers  and  chests 
are  to  be  well  filled,  there  must  be  a  wood-house  stocked 
with  dry  wood,  the  cow  must  give  milk — and  all  these  things ; 
then  mop  off  the  floor,  sweep  up  the  hearth  and  send  for  the 
young  folks.  Mr.  Kerr  and  his  wife  made  these  prepara- 
tions. 

(243 


244  LIFE  IN  THE   WEST. 

The  person  who  accepted  their  invitation  was  a  young  man 
about  a  foot  tall,  and  he  weighed  eight  pounds.  They  sup- 
posed that  as  everything  was  so  favorable  he  would  be 
delighted.  For  a  few  days  he  took  things  easy,  but  when 
he  had  looked  around  he  became  dissatisfied  and  made  a 
terrible  uproar.  All  they  could  do  was  to  feed  him  and  get 
him  asleep.  His  father  overlooked  this  on  account  of  his 
youth,  and  expected  he  would  become  reconciled,  and  grow 
up  to  be  a  fine  man ;  at  least  that  he  would  make  a  good 
machinist.  Already  the  young  man  had  so  much  knowledge 
of  hydraulics  as  to  be  able  to  pump. 

Mr.  Kerr  and  his  wife  were  glad  they  had  got  him.  They 
did  not  know  that  they  wanted  any  more  like  him,  or  any 
more  at  all.  They  were  anxious  to  do  all  they  could  for 
posterity.  They  wanted  to  make  him  the  best  and  smartest 
man  that  ever  lived.  They  would  wait  a  few  years;  if 
they  were  likely  to  succeed,  he  would  be  enough ;  he  would 
want  the  whole  house  and  every  opportunity ;  if  they  were 
likely  to  fail  in  their  plans,  they  would  send  for  another. 

To  them  the  doctrine  of  total  depravity  was  infamous. 
All  children  are  perfectly  pure.  Their  purity  is  to  be  de- 
veloped, and  not  soiled  with  the  teachings  of  priestcraft 
and  a  contact  with  society.  The  young  mind  must  not  be 
shocked  with  harsh  voices  and  with  cross  looks.  Things 
must  be  pleasant  to  him  by  night  and  by  day.  His  food 
was  to  be  such  as  would  not  develop  the  animal  passions, 
for,  of  course,  he  was  born  with  a  well  balanced  head.  This 
course  being  pursued,  he  would  love  good  things  and  hate 
bad  things. 

Young  Mr.  Henry  C.  W.  Kerr  was  naturally  well  dis- 
posed. He  had  a  fair  intellect;  he  was  handsome.  His 
parents  took  great  pains  to  teach  him  to  be  good.  Twenty 
times  a  day  he  was  told  he  must  be  good.  If  he  was  good, 
the  good  spirits  would  come  around  him.  When  he  was 
awake  he  must  be  good,  when  he  walked  out  doors  he  must 
be  good ;  he  must  be  good  every  moment  of  his  life.  Then, 
when  he  went  to  the  spirit-land  he  would  have  good  things. 


TAKING   AN   APPRENTICE.  245 

They  taught  him  to  read,  and  they  explained  many  things. 
Perhaps  when  he  should  get  strong  and  have  wisdom  and 
know  about  uses,  they  would  send  him  to  school.  They 
could  not  run  the  risk  of  his  being  whipped  by  the  teacher, 
of  his  being  tumbled  over  by  the  boys,  or  of  his  being  hit 
in  the  back  by  a  snow-ball. 

Henry's  path  was  pleasant.  His  father  made  him  a  little 
wagon  just  like  a  large  wagon;  it  had  springs,  and  was 
completely  ironed  off.  He  had  handsome  picture-books,  and 
his  clothes  were  neat  and  clean.  His  health  was  good.  They 
watched  him  to  see  that  he  did  not  eat  too  much.  Once, 
when  be  stole  a  large  piece  of  sweet-cake  and  his  mother 
caught  him  eating  it  behind  the  wood-shed,  she  took  it  away 
and  wanted  to  know  why  he  was  so  thoughtless.  He  would 
make  himself  sick.  Cake  was  only  for  a  relish,  not  to  eat 
like  bread.  Another  time  she  found  him  in  the  buttery 
drinking  molasses  out  of  the  jug  with  his  eyes  on  the  ceil- 
ing. After  that,  he  watched  his  chances  better.  She  thought 
her  white  sugar  went  off  too  fast,  and  she  found  strings  of 
preserve  juice  on  the  jars.  Once  she  came  upon  him,  and 
led  him  out  of  the  cellar  into  the  parlor.  "Why  did  he 
act  so  ?  What  was  the  reason  he  would  grieve  the  good 
spirits  ?  He  had  often  promised  to  be  good.  He  said  he  had 
got  tired  of  being  good.  Oh,  what  a  wicked  boy !  He 
said  he  had  heard  enough  of  this ;  he  wanted  to  go  and  see 
how  his  goat  got  along.  She  held  him  by  the  hand  but  he 
pulled  away.  W^hen  his  father  came  home,  both  talked  to 
him.  Did  he  want  to  break  their  hearts  ?  Did  he  want  to 
ruin  himself?  He  sat  in  his  chair,  crossed  his  feet  and 
whistled  a  tune.  At  last  he  told  them  to  stop  talking.  It 
was  plain  he  intended  to  do  as  he  pleased.  They  talked  it 
over.  They  agreed  that  to  whip  him  would  degrade  him 
and  break  down  his  ambition.  It  was  a  pity  he  could  not 
see  what  was  for  his  good,  but  they  would  instruct  him.  As 
he  grew  his  mind  would  expand,  and  he  would  do  better. 
Then  his  inborn  purity  would  develop  itself.  It  could  not 
be  that  a  son  of  theirs,  surrounded  from  the  first  with  every- 


246  LIFE   IN  THE  WEST. 

4 

thing  so  favorable,  would  go  astray.  All  things  bear  fruit 
according  to  their  kind. 

One  day  Mrs.  Kerr  could  not  find  Henry.  She  searched 
the  place,  then  started  for  town.  On  the  way  she  found 
him  playing  with  dirty  boys.  He  came  back  with  her,  for 
he  was  tired.  The  next  day  he  slipped  off  again.  He  was 
not  willing  to  come  back.  She  led  him,  he  pulled  back;  he 
kicked,  he  scratched,  he  bit,  he  raved  and  roared.  When 
she  got  him  home  his  face  was  like  blubber. 

He  was  getting  hard  to  manage.  In  considering  his  case, 
they  concluded  they  had  done  wrong  in  depriving  him  of 
society.  His  social  faculties  needed  gratification.  She 
would  take  him  a  visiting  where  there  were  good  boys  and 
girls.  If  they  had  thought  of  this  before  he  might  have 
had  a  playmate.  Children  want  to  play.  Play  is  their  life. 
They  considered  whether  they  would  get  him  a  playmate. 
In  making  him  a  good  and  great  man,  nothing  should  be 
spared. 

Mrs.  Kerr  took  him  to  many  places  and  it  seemed  to  do 
him  good.  At  first  there  were  outcries ;  the  children  would 
not  play  with  him,  but  he  changed  his  tune ;  he  changed  so 
much  that  they  were  glad  when  he  came,  for  he  brought 
something  in  his  pockets — apples,  nuts  and  candy — and  they 
had  good  times.  Mr.  Kerr  wondered  how  he  lost  so  many 
pocket-knives,  and  he  got  tired  buying  them.  At  last, 
Henry's  playmate  arrived.  He  asked  where  she  came  from, 
she  being  a  young  lady.  They  said  she  came  by  express 
from  California.  He  wanted  to  know  why  they  lied  to  him ; 
he  knew  all  about  it.  They  thought  that  he  was  quite  know- 
ing for  one  so  young. 

As  time  passed,  Henry  became  active.  He  knew  all  the 
boys,  and  he  improved  every  opportunity  to  be  out  with 
them.  He  excelled  in  slipping  off  after  dark ;  and,  streaking 
across  the  back  lots,  he  found  his  way  into  town.  When 
his  father  missed  him  he  would  hunt  him  up  and  lead  him 
back.  He  had  to  hold  his  hand  or  he  would  be  gone,  and  it 
was  necessary  to  come  on  him  slily,  for  if  he  saw  his  father 


TAKING   AN   APPRENTICE.  247 

he  would  run.  Sometimes,  after  being  brought  back,  he 
would  crawl  out  of  the  window  and  away  he  would  go.  His 
mother  found  out  that  he  liked  ale,  but  whisky  he  did  not 
like.  To  make  a  man  of  him,  his  father  let  him  have  some 
money,  and  his  mother  wondered  how  his  strong  pockets 
should  get  holes  in  them.  He  must  take  better  care  of  his 
money  or  she  would  not  ask  for  any. 

Mr.  Kerr  began  to  notice  that  his  son  was  backward  in 
his  learning ;  in  reading  he  miscalled  every  word ;  he  must 
be  sent  to  school.  This  pleased  him.  He  was  so  anxious  to 
learn  that  he  would  start  an  hour  before  the  hour.  By  this 
time  the  novelty  of  having  such  a  nice  boy  passed  away, 
and  Mr.  Kerr  began  to  consider  how  he  was  coming  out,  and 
he  inquired  about  him  of  the  teacher.  Oh,  yes,  Henry  was 
a  well  meaning  boy,  but  he  seemed  easily  led  astray,  and  he 
seldom  had  his  lessons.  About  obedience  ?  Well,  he  could 
not  say  he  was  remarkable.  After  a  while  it  became  neces- 
sary to  take  him  out,  there  were  so  many  against  him.  It 
was  all  envy. 

His  father  sent  him  to  live  in  the  family  of  a  country  min- 
ister who  had  no  other  children  than  grown-up  girls.  Here 
he  could  pursue  his  studies  in  peace.  He  stayed  several 
months ;  finally  the  minister  said  his  wife  did  not  care  about 
having  more  than  her  own  family. 

Henry  came  back.  He  was  getting  to  bo  quite  a  boy. 
He  was  shy  and  bashful.  He  seemed  to  have  learned  little, 
nor  did  he  understand  quickly ;  his  father  was  afraid  he  was 
dull.  He  took  him  with  him  to  help  in  the  shop.  He  would 
teach  him  the  business.  "When  customers  came  he  was  as 
silent  and  as  much  in  the  way  as  a  horse-block.  His  father 
tried  to  put  some  life  in  him ;  in  the  softest  and  most 
friendly  way  he  explained  things  and  showed  him  what  to 
do.  Finally,  he  would  not  have  him  about.  But  he  could 
help  his  mother ;  he  must  saw  and  split  wood,  and  keep  the 
wood-box  filled.  He  did  something  this  way,  but  he  threw 
in  the  wood  with  a  great  noise,  he  slammed  to  the  doors,  and 
seemed  to  try  to  wake  up  his  sister. 


248  LIFE   IN   THE  WEST. 

Mr.  Kerr  had  been  waiting  for  his  son's  mind  to  develop 
its  good  qualities.  There  was  great  delay.  He  wondered 
about  one  thing,  so  did  his  wife.  Why  is  it  that  our  son 
has  so  little  strength  ?  He  is  weak  as  a  cat,  and  he  grows 
poor.  There  is  scarcely  any  flesh  on  his  jaws  and  neck. 
Are  not  his  eyes  rather  weak  and  dull,  and  do  not  the  corners 
of  his  mouth  turn  down  ?  Certainly  something  must  be  the 
matter.  A  few  years  ago  he  was  plump  and  rosy,  and  he 
was  like  the  busy  bee;  now  his  feet  drag.  What  makes  him 
lower  his  eyes  when  anybody  looks  at  him  ?  He  almost  hates 
his  sister. 

Then  Mr.  Kerr  sent  him  to  a  select  school  for  boys  kept 
by  an  old  friend.  It  was  far  away.  His  father  went  with 
him  to  the  cars.  He  stood  on  the  platform  looking  carelessly 
around.  On  bidding  good-by,  Mr.  Kerr  had  to  take  Henry's 
hand  out  of  his  pocket  himself  that  he  might  shake  it. 
People  wondered ;  those  who  were  envious,  smiled. 

Mr.  Kerr  and  his  wife  were  deeply  mortified.  It  was  a 
mystery  that  a  son  of  theirs  should  be  so  lifeless — almost 
foolish.  Their  plan  of  making  him  the  best  and  smartest 
man  would  clearly  fail.  They  regretted  they  had  not  an 
assortment  of  children.  Some  of  them  might  have  ability. 
Still,  something  might  be  done.  They  sent  to  California  after 
another.  The  express  brought  a  young  gentleman;  then, 
thinking  he  might  want  a  playmate,  they  sent  for  another 
still ;  in  fact,  they  sent  on  every  year. 

After  Henry  had  been  to  school  a  few  months,  Mr.  Ken- 
got  a  letter,  and  he  started  for  the  school  by  the  next  train. 
The  teacher  was  a  good  and  wise  man.  After  night  he  took 
Mr.  Kerr  into  his  room,  and  they  talked  several  hours.  The 
next  day  he  brought  Henry  home;  his  mother  was  surprised 
at  his  looks  ;  she  could  hardly  speak ;  but  she  was  very  kind 
to  him.  Often  she  wiped  away  a  tear. 

That  night  Mr.  Kerr  had  a  talk  with  her.  He  said  that  his 
business  had  so  increased  he  was  going  to  take  an  appren- 
tice. Ah,  then,  he  would  board  with  them.  Yes.  If  he  must 
have  one,  she  did  not  object ;  though  the  washing  of  more 


TAKING  AN   APPRENTICE.  249 

greasy  shirts  was  not  pleasant.  He  was  a  boy  she  supposed ; 
•was  he  well  brought  up,  and  was  he  smart  ?  He  was  smart 
enough,  but  he  had  been  left  to  do  as  he  pleased.  What  was 
his  name  ?  His  name  was  Henry  W.  C.  Kerr.  What !  our 
Henry  ?  Yes,  our  Henry.  Oh,  dear !  She  might  dear  it  as 
much  as  she  pleased,  the  thing  would  be  done. 

The  next  morning  Mr.  Kerr  got  Henry  out  of  bed  by  the 
break  of  day  ;  he  was  going  to  turn  over  a  new  leaf;  they 
walked  out  back  near  the  barn.  Mr.  Kerr  told  him  he  must 
go  to  work  in  the  shop.  He  said  he  would  not  do  it.  Yes, 
but  he  would.  Yes,  but  he  would  not;  he  would  die  first. 
What !  would  he  disobey  his  father?  Yes,  he  would.  Henry 
saw  what  would  follow ;  he  gave  a  spring  and  ran  around 
the  barn ;  his  father  ran  after  him  and  finally  caught  him. 
The  young  fellow  was  no  match  for  the  strong  arm  of  the 
machinist ;  he  was  taken  into  the  barn. 

Breakfast  was  ready  and  the  men  were  waiting  to  sit  down. 
Had  Mr.  Kerr  got  up  ?  Mrs.  Kerr  went  out  and  called  them 
in.  When  the  rest  had  nearly  finished,  Henry  sat  down ;  his 
face  looked  very  red ;  he  ate  little  and  said  nothing.  The 
men  took  their  dinner  pails  and  started.  Henry  got  his 
mother  aside  and  talked  with  her  a  few  minutes ;  then  he 
came  out  and  told  his  father  he  was  ready.  When  Louis 
XVI.  was  to  be  executed,  he  told  the  officers  in  waiting  to 
march  on.  At  the  shop  Mr.  Kerr  set  Henry  to  cutting 
threads  on  bolts ;  he  kept  near  him  and  watched  him  closely. 
In  an  hour  or  so  he  told  him  to  rest  a  spell ;  he  was  glad  to 
stop.  Being  rested  he  must  go  to  work  again ;  at  noon  he 
had  a  good  appetite ;  when  night  came  he  was  tired ;  he  said 
he  was  sick.  His  father  told  him  he  would  feel  better  in  the 
morning.  "  Early  to  bed  and  early  to  rise."  He  gave  him 
to  understand  that  on  no  morning  could  he  lie  abed. 

One  night  about  a  week  after  this  Mr.  Kerr  heard  his  win- 
dow open  ;  he  was  out  in  time  to  catch  him.  He  had  a  bun- 
dle of  clothes.  The  strong  arm  led  him  into  the  barn.  Henry 
knew  he  had  a  whip  in  his  hand.  His  father  said  he  would 
talk  to  him  first ;  the  time  had  come  when  he  must  talk 
11* 


250  LIFE  IN  THE  WEST. 

plainly ;  he  was  mortified  to  the  dust  to  be  obliged  to  do  so ; 
then  he  told  the  young  man  what  he  did  not  dream  his  father 
knew.  Henry  was  mortified  to  the  dust.  Then  his  father 
showed  him  that  he  was  in  the  broad  road  to  ruin ;  he  said,  too, 
that  he  himself  had  been  to  blame  in  not  making  him  obedi- 
ent when  he  was  young ;  in  this  respect  he  had  been  a  cruel 
father;  but  now,  late  though  it  was,  he  would  do  his  duty. 
He  was  to  decide  whether  he  would  go  to  work  in  the  shop 
and  get  some  manliness,  and  this  without  a  murmur  or  a 
cross  look.  If  he  said  he  would,  he  would  let  him  go  this 
time ;  if  not,  he  would  thrash  him  till  he  could  not  stand, 
much  less  run  away.  Suppose  he  did  get  away,  what  could 
he  do  ?  no  body  would  employ  him ;  and  he  needn't  deceive 
him,  if  he  went  off  he  would  follow  him  and  bring  him  back 
if  it  cost  five  thousand  dollars,  and  he  would  make  him  sup 
sorrow.  What  did  he  say  ?  would  he  live  or  die  ?  The  whip 
seemed  anxious  to  get  to  work  ;  it  whizzed  so.  Yes,  he  would 
obey ;  he  would  do  every  thing  he  told  him  to  if  he  would 
not  whip  him ;  he  would  never  try  to  run  away  again ;  oh, 
he  would  be  such  a  good  boy !  Would  he  go  to  work  ?  Yes, 
he  would  ;  just  as  true  as  he  lived,  he  would. 

Mr.  Kerr  watched  him  closely ;  his  care  was  over  him  by 
night  and  by  day ;  he  took  him  to  meeting,  the  influence 
might  be  good ;  at  least,  he  would  have  some  regard  for  his 
appearance.  In  a  month  or 'So  Henry  became  useful  in  the 
shop.  There  was  much  brass  and  iron  turning  to  do — parts 
he  could  execute — and  he  stood  by  the  lathe  day  after  day ; 
he  did  other  work.  "  Really,  our  son  does  look  better ;  he 
does  not  drop  his  eyes  as  he  used  to ;  and  the  corners  of  his 
mouth  have  become  firm.  How  strong  he  is  getting;  the 
other  day  he  lifted  a  barrel  of  flour  out  of  the  wagon  and 
brought  it  in ;  but,  dear,  is  he  not  likely  to  hurt  his  back  by 
lifting  so  ?  With  what  a  firm  tread  he  walks ;  and  do  you 
notice  that  he  is  getting  a  taste  for  reading  ?" 

In  bringing  up  the  rest  of  his  children,  Mr.  Kerr  changed 
some  of  his  views.  They  had  to  obey ;  he  would  not  suffer 
the  least  sign  of  disobedience.  He  said  that  when  there 


TAKING  AN  APPRENTICE.  251 

was  only  one  child  it  was  almost  certain  to  be  ruined ;  the 
more  one  had  the  better  would  they  obey ;  the  house  would 
not  be  habitable  if  they  did  not  obey.  Perhaps  he  became 
too  inflexible ;  his  wife  would  smooth  things  at  times ;  but 
nothing  could  make  him  lose  sight  of  the  consequences  of 
disobedience.  From  this  his  religious  views  began  to  change. 
Children  might  be  all  purity,  or  not ;  but  if  they  were  neg- 
lected, they  would  gather  all  kinds  of  impurity.  He  was 
not  so  certain  after  all  but  there  was  a  devil;  at  any  rate,  it 
would  do  no  harm  to  be  on  the  look  out  for  him. 

On  winter  evenings  Henry  had  to  get  regular  lessons ;  if 
he  wished,  he  could  break  off  work  at  three  o'clock,  to  study; 
he  must  read,  write,  and  cypher — every  thing  would  be  ex- 
plained. Who  knew  but  after  a  while  he  might  go  to  school  ? 
For  three  years,  summer  and  winter,  he  worked  with  his 
father,  and  became  an  expert  workman.  When  customers 
came,  either  would  wait  on  them  and  explain  how  work  was 
to  be  done — both  seemed  equally  competent.  Sometimes  the 
young  man  was  quite  sharp  and  suggested  new  ideas. 

The  result  of  all  this  was,  that  in  his  twentieth  year  Henry 
was  sent  to  the  academy,  and  the  scholars  wondered  because 
he  was  not  backward.  Among  them  no  scholar  was  better 
behaved,  and  he  always  had  his  lessons.  True,  he  had  large 
hands,  but  they  knew  how  to  defend,  and  there  was  a  good 
deal  of  money  in  them.  Afterwards  he  went  to  a  higher 
school,  and  he  obtained  a  good  education.  On  returning 
home  he  became  a  partner  with  his  father.  The  town  had 
grown  so  much  that  it  was  necessary  to  enlarge  their  estab- 
lishment. At  this  time  they  have  so  much  work  that  they 
employ  over  a  hundred  hands. 


GOING  TO  BE  A  MORMON, 

AT  the  centre  of  one  of  the  townships  of  the  Ohio  Western 
Reserve,  lived  a  blacksmith  named  Graves.  He  had  a 
comfortable  house,  a  barn,  where  he  kept  a  horse  and  cow, 
and  ten  acres  of  land.  His  shop  was  large  and  comfortable ; 
it  was  weather-boarded,  painted  red,  and  had  a  good  plank 
floor.  He  had  a  full  stock  of  tools,  and  he  could  do  all 
kinds  of  work.  In  the  midst  of  his  business  he  was  taken 
sick  and  he  died,  leaving  a  wife  and  daughter.  He  had  been 
earning  much,  he  ought  to  have  laid  up  money ;  he  was  out 
of  debt,  but  there  was  little.  He  had  thought  much  of  his 
wife  and  had  given  her  a  deed  of  the  place,  believing  she 
would  take  good  care  of  the  daughter,  whose  name  was 
Jane. 

Mrs.  Graves  sent  her  daughter  to  the  district  school  and 
had  her  learn  all  she  could,  and  she  dressed  her  well.  Jane 
was  a  fine  girl,  and  handsome  enough.  The  young  farmers 
thought  she  would  make  a  good  wife,  and  several  tried  to 
get  her.  But  this  was  not  the  mother's  plan.  A  young 
man  who  was  a  blacksmith  came  to  see  her ;  he  ought  to 
be  the  one.  With  him  the  shop  could  go  on ;  but  they 
must  find  out  all  about  him.  They  inquired.  Mr.  Jarvis 
had  no  property,  but  he  was  a  good  workman.  He  could 
write  a  plain  hand  and  he  understood  arithmetic.  In  many 
ways  he  had  seen  hard  times,  which  had  made  him  sober,  and 
he  was  anxious  to  get  along.  If  he  could  marry  Jane  how 
happy  he  would  be.  There  was  a  shop  where  he  could  go 
to  work ;  there  was  land  where  he  could  raise  corn  and  cut 
grass  ;  he  would  have  no  furniture  to  buy,  everything  would 
be  ready. 

(252) 


GOING  TO   BE  A   MORMON.  253 

Mrs.  Graves  and  her  daughter  kept  him  back  a  year  or  so  j 
they  wanted  to  try  him.  They  were  ready  to  hear  all  that 
was  said  against  and  for  him ;  but  they  were  careful  not  to 
discourage  him.  Sometimes  they  would  be  friendly  and 
tender,  then  they  would  be  short  and  cold.  It  was  nice 
business  for  them ;  but  they  kept  him  hopeful,  and  he  did 
the  best  that  was  in  him  to  do.  Mrs.  Graves  gave  him  good 
advice  and  a  pair  of  stockings.  When  he  came  to  see  Jane 
she  would  tell  him  whether  he  could  stay ;  they  must  not  sit 
up  later  than  ten  o'clock ;  if  he  stayed  much  after  the  clock 
struck  that  hour,  she  would  rap  on  her  bed-room  wall 

At  last  she  agreed  they  might  be  married.  Jane  liked 
him  because  he  was  honest.  She  wished  he  appeared  better, 
but  she  would  see  to  this  after  marriage.  His  clothes  were 
plain,  but  he  got  a  new  suit ;  they  made  him  some  shirts 
and  hemmed  his  handkerchiefs,  and  Mrs.  Graves  cut  his  hair. 

The  day  after  the  wedding  Mr.  Jarvis  opened  the  shop, 
fixed  up  the  tools  and  was  ready  for  customers.  Soon  he 
had  a  plenty  to  do.  The  farmers  wanted  to  try  the  new 
shop.  Mr.  Jarvis  might  shoe  their  horses ;  they  would  see 
how  long  his  shoes  would  stay  on.  The  other  blacksmiths 
had  got  too  big.  Sometimes  their  shoes  would  not  stay  on 
a  month ;  and  they  had  got  to  charging  a  shilling  for  setting 
a  shoe  when  the  price  had  always  been  ten  cents.  At  this, 
even,  a  man  could  get  rich.  It  was  the  price  of  a  pound  of 
butter  or  of  two  pounds  of  cheese. 

Mr.  Jarvis  had  opposition  from  the  other  shops,  and  they 
had  advantages,  for  they  had  wagon-shops  in  connection. 
But  he  always  had  enough  to  do.  He  studied  horse-shoe- 
ing. Somewhere  he  had  learned  that  a  shoe  should  have 
on  its  outer  edge  a  narrow  projection  forming  a  calk  clear 
around,  in  which  is  a  groove  for  the  nails.  Such  a  shoe  is 
light,  it  is  nailed  at  the  toe  where  the  hoof  is  thickest,  the 
foot  feels  more  easy,  the  frog  comes  to  the  ground,  there  is 
less  dryness,  and  a  horse  cannot  slip  backwards  or  forwards. 
This  branch  of  blacksmithing  is  hard  work ;  some  horses  are 
fractious,  perhaps  they  are  made  so  by  the  smith's  hammer ; 


254  LIFE   IN   THE   WEST. 

others  are  young  and  are  afraid.  Some  are  dangerous — 
strength  and  patience  are  required.  Mr.  Jarvis  would  put 
on  four  new  shoes  and  find  the  iron  for  a  dollar.  Often  he 
shod  all  day,  and  he  earned  his  money.  He  got  along 
well,  everybody  said  he  had  a  good  chance ;  few  poor  young 
men  could  expect  to  be  so  fortunate.  When  farmers  put  in 
their  crops,  work  was  dull,  then  he  planted  corn  and  pota- 
toes ;  and  mornings  and  evenings  he  worked  in  the  garden. 

Naturally  Mrs.  Graves  continued  to  manage  in  the  house. 
Her  daughter  had  little  more  to  say  how  things  should  be 
than  before.  Mrs.  Graves  liked  her  son-in-law  very  much, 
and  the  three  would  talk  together  chipper  enough.  They 
congratulated  themselves  on  how  well  they  were  doing. 
Mrs.  Graves  and  her  daughter  had  been  obliged  to  live  sav- 
ing, there  was  little  to  go  on.  From  their  few  sheep  they 
had  made  some  flannel,  and  they  knit  many  socks,  which 
they  sold  at  the  stores,  and  they  could  spare-  some  butter 
and  eggs.  They  made  shirts  and  vests  and  pantaloons  for 
the  merchants.  In  this  way  they  got  sugar,  tea  and  other 
goods.  Now  they  could  dress  better  and  live  better.  Mr. 
Jarvis  told  them  to  get  what  they  wanted  and  he  would  pay 
for  it.  He  did  not  trouble  himself  about  what  they  bought ; 
when  he  got  money,  he  went  to  the  store,  inquired  how  much 
it  was,  and  paid  it.  On  the  little  farm  he  raised  a  plenty, 
though  he  bought  his  flour;  but  he  had  corn  to  feed  the 
horse,  cow  and  hens.  They  fattened  two  nice  hogs ;  had 
eggs  and  butter,  and  set  a  bountiful  table. 

Frequently,  after  dinner,  Mrs.  Graves  and  Mrs.  Jarvis, 
all  dressed  up,  would  come  to  the  shop-door  and  tell  him 
they  were  going — yes,  they  were  going,  and  he  must  keep 
the  chickens  out  of  the  house.  They  would  come  back 
about  sundown.  Then,  oh,  they  had  such  a  nice  time  and 
they  had  so  many  things  to  tell.  But  they  were  tired.  Could 
he  not  eat  bread  and  milk  for  supper,  and  have  some  cold 
meat  and  potatoes,  and  there  were  butter  and  cheese  and 
pickles  ?  If  he  only  said  so,  they  would  make  him  some  tea 
and  get  him  a  good  supper.  Oh,  no,  anything  would  do. 


GOING  TO   BE  A  MORMON.  255 

In  a  few  days,  somebody  would  come  to  see  them.  The 
little  parlor  was  opened  and  cheerful,  and  there  all  the  ladies 
sat  in  their  fine  dresses,  and  there  was  no  end  to  their  talk- 
ing. Mr.  Jarvis  felt  quite  proud  of  being  the  head  of  such 
a  house.  But  when  supper  was  ready  and  they  called  him, 
he  would  not  come  in.  It  would  take  too  much  time  for 
him  to  wash.  So  they  had  their  tea,  their  biscuit  and  but- 
ter and  preserves  and  honey  to  themselves.  When  they 
were  gone,  his  supper  would  be  ready.  Once  he  saw  them 
taking  off  and  bringing  back  some  things — they  seemed  de- 
liberating whether  he  should  have  this  or  that.  If  the  fire 
was  out,  and  no  tea  was  to  be  had,  he  would  eat  anything. 
The  ladies  have  tine  times  as  they  visit  each  other.  They 
hear  of  all  that  is  going  on — sometimes  they  hear  of  many 
things  that  are  not  going  on. 

Mr.  Jarvis'  women  soon  dressed  as  well  as  the  best.  A 
few  months  after  he  was  married  his  wife  asked  him  if  she 
might  get  a  silk  dress,  it  would  cost  only  fifteen  dollars. 
Yes,  she  might  have  anything  she  pleased.  He  thought  it 
a  fine  sight  to  see  them  go  off  to  meeting  or  visiting  in  nice 
clothes  and  with  ribbons  flying,  clean  and  crisp  as  a  May 
morning.  He  was  willing  to  dress  plain  himself;  but  they 
made  him  get  a  fine  suit,  for  they  did  not  want  to  be  ashamed 
of  him  in  church. 

Everything  was  prepared  when  the  baby  arrived.  It  had 
half-a-dozen  fine  dresses  suitably  embroidered.  The  young 
gentleman  weighed  above  the  average,  and  was  in  good 
health.  Having  a  plenty  of  food,  he  grew  fast.  The 
hired  girl  stayed  a  long  time,  but  at  last  she  went  away. 

One  evening  Mr.  Jarvis  was  looking  very  solemn.  The 
women  kept  at  him  till  they  found  out  what  it  was.  It 
seems  that  Mr.  Jarvis  had  not  money  enough  to  pay  the 
store  debt.  Mrs.  Graves  laughed  heartily.  Was  that  all  ? 
She  knew  all  about  such  things.  The  way  was  to  buy  less 
and  go  without  things  till  he  could  catch  up.  This  lightened 
his  face  a  little,  but  within  himself  he  wondered  what  chance 
he  had  to  lay  up  anything.  He  was  getting  a  little  tired  of 
working  for  his  board  and  clothes. 


256  LIFE  IN  THE  WEST. 

When  the  baby  was  old  enough  they  took  him  a  visiting. 
In  his  long  white  dress  and  pretty  bonnet,  he  looked  like  a 
rosebud.  If  they  had  to  go  far,  would  it  be  too  much 
trouble  for  Mr.  Jarvis  to  come  and  bring  the  baby,  he  was 
too  much  for  Jane  to  carry  ?  Yes,  he  supposed,  but  he  had 
promised  a  certain  job ;  he  might  do  it,  by  working  very 
hard. 

After  a  Avhile  Mrs.  Jarvis'  health  failed  a  little.  Her 
mother  was  the  first  to  notice  it.  She  was  sure  that  great 
boy  was  too  much  for  her  weak  back.  If  she  should  have 
any  more  children  she  did  not  know  what  would  become  of 
her.  To  make  it  as  easy  as  possible  for  Jane  she  would  get 
breakfast  herself,  and  all  Mr.  Jarvis  had  to  do  would  be  to 
build  a  fire  and  put  on  the  tea-kettle,  and,  if  he  was  a  mind 
to,  he  might  put  the  potatoes  to  boiling,  and  cut  off  some 
meat  and  put  it  in  the  spider  on  the  stove — she  would  do  the 
rest.  This  Mr.  Jarvis  would  do,  and  sometimes  more ;  that 
is,  eat  his  breakfast  and  go  to  work.  Still,  Jane  did  not  im- 
prove much.  When  she  got  up  and  came  to  the  fire,  her 
mother  would  look  at  her  with  an  inquiring  eye ;  sometimes 
she  would  sigh,  and  say  women  have  hard  times,  but  when 
there  was  a  child  to  take  care  of  it  took  away  all  her 
strength. 

Before  Mr.  Jarvis  was  married  they  had  talked  it  over 
among  themselves  that  he  was  to  have  a  deed  of  the  place, 
and  he  had  been  expecting  it,  but  nothing  came.  At  last 
he  asked  Mrs.  Graves  how  it  was.  She  looked  at  him  with 
surprise.  Did  he  expect  she  was  going  to  give  up  all  the 
property  her  dear  husband  left  her  ?  Of  course  she  intended 
him  to  have  it  after  she  was  gone.  But  suppose  he  should 
die  first,  where  would  she  be  ?  He  asked  pardon,  but  he  had 
only  inquired,  for  he  felt  like  having  a  place  of  his  own — he 
thought  he  worked  hard  enough.  Yes,  he  did  work  hard, 
so  did  she,  and  so  did  Jane,  and  much  more  than  she  was 
able.  If  it  were  not  for  her  mother  she  did  not  know  what 
the  poor  creature  would  do. 

Mr.  Jarvis  said  nothing  and  worked  away.     Another  baby 


GOING   TO   BE   A   MORMON.  257 

arrived.  He  was  sorry  for  this ;  he  knew  Mrs.  Graves  would 
not  like  it,  and  he  kept  out  of  the  way  as  much  as  be  could. 
He  had  to  work  hard  to  pay  the  new  store  bill.  By  making 
collections  he  managed  to  pay  it.  As  it  was  large  he  asked 
for  a  bill  of  the  items.  There  was  a  long  list ;  he  presumed 
they  had  been  bought,  but  there  were  many  heavy  charges 
for  calico,  nice  dress  patterns  and  bleached  cambric,  which, 
he  thought,  they  might  have  done  without.  Then  there 
were  entries  for  so  many  pounds  of  dollar  tea ;  he  thought 
they  had  been  getting  fifty  cent  tea ;  and,  looking  it  over, 
he  found  the  average  fully  half  a  pound  a  week.  He  remem- 
bered that  once  in  a  while  his  tea  wras  very  strong.  Still  he 
did  not  see  how  he  could  help  himself.  To  meet  increased 
expenses  he  would  rise  earlier,  and  people  heard  his  anvil 
ring  by  the  break  of  day.  Surely  such  an  industrious  man 
must  lay  up  money.  So  faithfully  had  he  shod  horses  that 
he  had  all  he  possibly  could  do.  His  back,  too,  began  to 
give  way,  and  he  was  forced  to  slight  his  wrork,  so  that  the 
farmers  would  get  dissatisfied,  and  gradually  this  branch  of 
work  slackened. 

About  this  time  two  Mormon  preachers  came  into  the 
township  and  stopped  with  some  old  acquaintances — for  it 
was  in  this  region  that  the  Mormons  were  first  organized — 
and  they  had  made  proselytes  in  many  places.  These  two 
had  been  sent  out  by  the  Saints  at  Salt  Lake  to  convert  the 
gentiles.  They  were  plain  men,  and,  to  introduce  their 
doctrines,  they  hired  out  to  work  by  the  day,  and  watched 
their  chances.  They  got  up  meetings  in  out-of-the-way 
school-houses.  Generally  their  success  was  poor,  but  now 
and  then  a  man  was  attracted,  either  by  their  doctrines  or 
their  description  of  the  country. 

Mr.  Jarvis  talked  with  these  men,  and  seemed  to  think  so 
much  of  them  that  he  shod  their  horses  free,  and  once  or 
twice  he  went  to  hear  them  preach.  He  was  careful  to  say 
nothing  about  it  to  his  family,  but  they  soon  found  it  out, 
though  they  kept  silent,  not  wishing  to  have  him  know  they 
were  watching  him. 


258  LIFE   IN   THE   WEST. 

One  day  Mrs.  Graves  came  from  the  store,  and,  stop- 
ping at  the  shop  door,  told  him  she  had  brought  the  county 
paper,  and  there  was  another  one,  the  Deseret  News.  What 
was  that  ?  Ah,  yes,  he  had  subscribed  for  it ;  it  was  printed 
at  Salt  Lake.  He  stopped  work,  and  brushing  off  the  anvil 
with  his  leather  apron,  sat  down  and  began  to  read.  What, 
was  it  a  Mormon  paper  ?  Some  folks  called  them  Mormons ; 
the  proper  name  was  Latter-day  Saints.  Latter-day  devils, 
more  like.  She  wondered  now  if  he  was  not  going  to  be  a 
Mormon  ?  He  could  not  say,  but  his  rule  was  to  examine 
all  things. 

Mr.  Jarvis  read  the  paper  carefully,  but  one  day  it  was 
missing  and  could  not  be  found  high  or  low.  At  last  they 
concluded  the  baby  had  got  hold  of  it.  When  another  paper 
came  he  took  better  care  of  it.  After  he  was  through  work 
he  would  get  out  the  stand  and  the  Bible  and  go  to  reading, 
having  the  Bible  to  refer  to,  and  often  he  would  exclaim  that 
it  seemed  to  be  so.  At  this  the  two  women  spoke  their 
minds,  and  Mrs.  Graves  in  particular.  If  ever  there  was  a 
hellish  doctrine  this  was  one.  Say,  now,  did  he  want  another 
wife  ?  Not  in  particular.  She  thought  not,  when  he  had  as 
much  as  he  could  do  to  take  care  of  the  one  he  had.  She 
wondered  if  things  were  coming  to  this,  that  a  daughter  of 
hers  was  to  be  to  the  wife  of  a  big  Mormon,  with  two,  three, 
four,  five,  six  wives  all  fighting  each  other,  living  in  little 
huts  with  nothing  to  eat  but  corn-bread  and  grasshopper  pies, 
and  fifty-seven  ragged  children  playing  in  the  dirt.  He  was 
sorry  she  had  such  a  poor  opinion  of  this  sect ;  perhaps  if 
she  would  read  some  of  the  sermons  she  might  change  her 
mind.  The  Mormons  had  been  shamefully  abused.  At  any 
rate  it  is  a  good  country  there.  Pear  trees  made  a  growth 
of  five  feet  every  year.  She  told  him  if  he  wanted  to  raise 
pear  trees  he  might  be  saved  the  trouble,  for  they  would 
grow  on  their  own  land  if  he  would  plant  and  take  care  of 
them.  Still,  Mr.  Jarvis  did  not  neglect  his  work,  nor  was  he 
less  tender  to  his  wife ;  on  the  contrary,  he  seemed  to  like 
her  better  than  ever,  but  this  Mrs.  Graves  called  a  bad  sign. 


GOING   TO   BE   A   MORMON.  259 

That  fall,  after  the  corn  was  gathered,  the  potatoes  dug, 
wood  hauled  and  put  in  the  wood-shed,  and  every  thing  made 
snug  for  winter,  he  told  the  women  he  wished  to  lay  up  a 
little  money  the  next  few  months,  for  he  wanted  to  take  a 
short  trip.  Ah !  he  was  going  to  Salt  Lake,  was  he  ?  He 
thought  not.  Well,  whither  was  he  going  ?  He  could  not 
say,  exactly ;  he  might  go  out  West  a  piece,  and  he  hoped 
they  would  buy  nothing  but  what  was  necessary. 

Mrs.  Graves  now  saw  that  her  plan  of  managing  Mr.  Jar- 
vis  had  failed ;  she  said  she  had  erred ;  they  ought  to  have 
been  more  saving.  It  had  done  Jane  good  to  go  a  visiting, 
but  she  had  gone,  and  now  they  would  stay  at  home.  They 
would  go  without  things,  for  the  children  were  growing ;  it 
costs  money  to  raise  them,  and  there  might  be  more  of  them ; 
but  this  was  nothing  to  her,  and  she  had  no  business  to  say 
a  word,  but  she  had  heard  Jane  say  she  had  as  many  as  she 
wanted.  Perhaps  they  had  better  eat  less  butter  and  fewer 
eggs.  If  they  had  butter  only  once  a  day  they  could  buy 
their  tea.  Mr.  Jarvis  said  the  best  way  would  be  not  to 
have  any  tea  at  all ;  in  fact,  he  believed  it  hurt  him ;  but 
Mrs.  Graves  would  not  consent  to  this. 

One  day  Mr.  Jarvis  told  Mrs.  Graves  that  she  looked  very 
handsome ;  he  had  hinted  the  same  thing  two  or  three  times 
before.  Then  he  wanted  to  ask  her  a  question.  Suppose  the 
Mormon  religion  true,  which  it  is  not,  but  suppose  it,  in  this 
case  would  it  be  wrong  for  a  man  to  have  his  mother-in-law 
for  one  of  his  wives  ?  She  gave  a  smart  scream  and  asked  if 
he  wanted  to  insult  her.  However,  after  some  words,  she 
answered  :  Certainly  not ;  if  it  is  right  to  join  Satan's  king- 
dom, it  cannot  be  wrong  to  fight  for  it.  If  one  wrong  thing 
is  right,  white  is  black,  and  two  and  two  make  sixty. 

Things  seemed  likely  to  go  badly.  Jane  had  many  sor- 
rowful hours  ;  she  could  not  bear  to  think  of  going  to  Salt 
Lake,  but  she  did  not  know  how  to  prevent  it.  The  trouble 
was  she  never  had  learned  to  talk  to  her  husband.  From 
the  first,  her  mother  had  persuaded  her  to  let  her  manage 
him,  for  she  knew  all  about  men.  The  result  was  her  hus- 


260  LIFE   IN  THE  WEST.    • 

band  was  not  frank  with  her ;  he  knew  she  would  tell  her 
mother  every  thing,  and  there  was  no  confidence.  Often  she 
cried  alone,  and  wished  they  could  live  by  themselves ;  she 
would  not  care  if  it  was  in  a  hovel  and  they  had  nothing  to 
eat  but  johnny-cake  and  milk,  for  they  Avould  soon  have  bet- 
ter; then  she  could  talk  to  him  and  he  would  talk  to  her. 

At  last,  when  Mrs.  Graves  saw  he  would  go,  and  they  were, 
getting  his  clothes  ready,  she  asked  him  if  he  would  not  be 
contented  if  she  should  give  him  a  deed  of  the  place.  He 
replied  she  ought  not  to  part  with  it ;  he  was  able  and  strong, 
and  could  get  one  of  his  own ;  in  fact,  he  thought  this  was 
not  much  of  a  country,  and  he  made  up  his  mind  to  go.  More 
than  this,  every  family  ought  to  have  a  house  for  itself;  he 
did  not  believe  that  there  was  room  enough  in  another  one's 
house  for  him  to  put  in  his  bed.  There  was  great  talking  and 
crying  and  carrying  on,  but  it  did  no  good ;  he  bade  them 
good-bye  and  started. 

First  they  had  a  letter  from  him  at  St.  Louis,  then  from  St. 
Joseph.  The  train  for  Salt  Lake  was  getting  ready  for  a 
start,  and  would  be  off  in  a  week ;  they  need  not  expect  to 
hear  from  him  for  some  time.  The  emigration  was  large ; 
there  were  people  from  all  parts  of  the  world ;  some  were 
quite  intelligent ;  all  were  hopeful,  and  there  was  no  fear  of 
Indians.  It  would  take  till  the  first  of  July  to  get  through. 

Spring,  summer  and  fall  passed,  and  they  had  no  further 
word.  The  paper  still  came ;  it  spoke  of  the  train  coming 
safely,  and  of  the  arrival  of  useful  mechanics,  carpenters,  ma- 
sons, blacksmiths  and  the  like.  The  winter  set  in ;  still  no 
letter.  What  a  pity  he  should  spend  so  many  months  seek- 
ing unlawful  things,  when  he  had  a  wife  and  two  rosy  chil- 
dren needing  his  care,  and  such  a  nice  home ;  during  this 
time  he  might  have  laid  up  a  bagfull  of  dollars. 

One  stormy  January  night  some  one  knocked,  and  a  large 
man,  wearing  a  buffalo  overcoat,  and  buffalo  overshoes,  came 
in ;  it  was  Mr.  Jarvis ;  his  face  was  fresh,  his  eyes  brightest, 
and  he  was  fat ;  he  kissed  them  all  round,  not  omitting  Mrs. 
Graves.  Well,  how  had  he  been  ?  First-rate.  How  was  it 


GOING  TO   BE  A   MORMON.  261 

that  he  had  come  across  the  Plains  in  the  winter  ?  Oh,  the 
stage  was  running ;  but  he  was  hungry.  Yes,  yes ;  they 
would  get  him  something  to  eat ;  and  they  got  the  best  they 
had.  They  were  astonished  to  see  him  eat ;  positively,  he 
took  one  egg  at  a  mouthful ;  he  cut  right  and  left ;  he  must 
have  seen  strange  company.  Well,  now,  one  question — had 
he  got  another  wife  ?  No,  not  yet ;  he  had  seen  no  woman 
he  liked  so  well  as  Jane.  Once  more,  was  he  going  ?  Yes, 
he  was  going — going  in  the  spring. 

In  the  morning  Mrs.  Graves  asked  Jane  how  it  was.  She 
said  he  would  not  tell  her  much,  but  he  promised  not  to  get 
another  wife ;  she  believed  he  would  do  as  he  agreed,  and 
she  was  going  with  him.  Ah,  she  did  not  know  how  deceit- 
ful men  are ;  they  would  agree  with  a  woman  not  to  do  a 
certain  thing,  and  then  they  would  do  it ;  it  was  strange  how 
women  were  led  by  the  men — they  would  follow  them  even 
if  they  knew  they  were  going  to  destruction. 

Mr.  Jarvis  opened  his  sliop  again.  If  any  body  wanted 
work  done,  tell  them  to  bring  it  on ;  he  would  work  cheap ; 
he  wanted  to  do  much  while  he  stayed ;  his  prices  attracted 
customers;  he  hired  a  journeyman;  they  hammered  night 
and  day.  Folks  noticed  that  his  trip  to  Salt  Lake  improved 
him.  He  worked,  they  said,  like  a  horse  ;  he  had  become  a 
curious  sort  of  man ;  some  of  his  stories  did  not  hang  together 
very  well,  and  in  explaining  them  he  told  bigger  lies  than 
ever,  and  he  had  got  in  the  habit  of  winking  with  one  eye. 

In  April  the  roads  settled  and  they  started ;  every  body 
paid  him  up ;  they  had  little  furniture  to  move,  but  Jane  in- 
sisted on  having  what  her  husband  had  bought ;  there  were 
several  little  squabbles  about  towels,  sheets,  quilts,  candle- 
sticks, wooden-bowls,  tubs  and  the  like.  At  last  the  things 
were  divided;  he  had  bought  some  screw  plates,  bitts  and 
hammers,  and  made  other  things  for  the  shop,  these  he  took, 
the  rest  were  left  to  Mrs.  Graves. 

When  they  got  to  St.  Jo  they  found  the  train  getting 
ready.  Looking  around  he  bought  a  wagon  and  two  yoke 
of  cattle,  then  went  on  ahead,  for  he  said  their  load  was 


262  LIFE   IN   THE  WEST. 

heavy,  and  they  ought  to  get  an  early  start.  There  seemed 
to  be  few  people  on  the  road,  and  the  road  itself  looked  new. 
In  a  day  or  so  they  came  to  a  wide  road  filled  with  teams ; 
Jane  asked  how  it  was  every  body  was  going  to  Santa  Fe. 
Oh,  the  road  forked  on  ahead.  It  did  fork  and  was  new 
again.  On  the  third  day,  towards  night,  they  got  across  a 
prairie  and  came  to  timber,  where  he  said  was  a  spring  and 
a  good  place  to  camp.  Near  the  timber  was  a  new  house 
with  a  young  orchard  around  it,  and  some  fields  fenced  in. 
Instead  of  going  to  the  spring,  he  opened  the  gate  that  led 
to  the  house  and  drove  up  to  the  door  and  said  they  were  to 
get  out,  for  they  had  come  to  Salt  Lake  !  What  did  he  mean 
by  Salt  Lake  ?  He  meant  that  this  was  all  the  Salt  Lake  he 
was  going  to ;  this  was  his  house,  his  farm ;  most  rich  and 
beautiful  land ;  here  he  had  worked  all  summer ;  he  had 
raised  good  crops,  and  every  thing  was  ready;  come,  they 
must  get  out.  As  he  helped  Jane  down,  she  hugged  and 
kissed  him  more  than  once.  The  children  were  put  on  the 
ground,  the  wagon  was  unloaded  and  a  fire  was  built,  then 
they  had  supper.  There  they  are  to  this  day ;  you  may  be 
sure  they  are  doing  well. 


THE   SHOEMAKER'S  STRIKE. 

THOMAS  GALE  lived  with  his  parents  in  New  Jersey. 
When  eighteen  he  got  their  consent  to  go  into  New 
York  to  learn  the  shoemaker's  trade.  His  acquaintances 
were  learning  the  same  trade  in  Newark ;  his  higher  ambition 
was  to  learn  his  in  New  York.  His  parents  were  willing, 
for  the  farm  was  small.  There  were  boys  enough  left ;  he 
was  tolerably  well  brought  up.  The  man  he  was  going  to 
live  with  they  knew.  After  this  age  it  was  not  likely  he 
would  be  led  astray. 

His  boss  lived  in  Spring-street :  there  were  many  appren- 
tices; he  soon  became  one  of  them.  They  had  fun  as  well 
as  work,  and  after  Thomas  considered  the  business,  he  got 
permission  to  turn  his  attention  to  fine  boots.  To  excel,  he 
studied  the  subject ;  and  when-  he  went  into  Broadway  to 
see  the  well-dressed  folks,  he  did  so  to  take  a  look  at  the  fine 
boots.  By  the  time  he  was  twenty  he  was  considered  a  good 
hand  at  this  branch  of  his  trade,  and  still  he  continued  to 
study  it. 

When  twenty-one,  he  was  in  a  hurry  to  marry  and  to  be- 
come a  man.  A  girl  whom  he  had  taken  to  pic-nics  and 
theatres,  he  fixed  upon ;  her  name  was  Clara ;  her  father  had 
a  place  in  the  custom-house ;  but  she  was  not  prepared  to 
marry  a  shoemaker,  since  there  were  so  many  standing  higher 
whom  she  thought  she  might  get.  Her  parents  seeing  that 
Thomas  had  made  up  his  mind  to  get  her,  that  he  was  tem- 
perate, and  had  a  good  trade,  told  her  she  was  not  likely  to 
do  better.  Thousands  in  the  city  who  were  rich  had  com- 
menced poor.  They  were  young ;  it  was  important  to  be- 


264  LIFE  IN  THE   WEST. 

come  fixed  when  young.  She  was  persuaded — and  had  him. 
They  hired  two  rooms  up-stairs  in  Prince-street ;  he  worked 
in  one,  by  the  piece,  for  his  old  boss.  They  cooked  and  ate 
in  the  other.  They  had  little ;  they  wanted  little.  She  bound 
shoes  and  made  shirts.  Everybody  said  she  was  handsome 
and  smart ;  and  they  got  along  well. 

She  did  all  the  business ;  she  went  early  to  market  in  Cen- 
tre-street; she  bought  their  dry  goods  in  Grand-street,  or 
wherever  there  were  bargains.  She  stretched  their  money ; 
with  her  own  work  she  made  enough  to  buy  her  clothes, 
and  sometimes  garments  for  him.  She  took  the  Sun,  though 
he  wanted  the  Tribune;  and  if  he  proposed  an  evening's 
amusement,  she  knew  whither  to  go — and  it  was  a  cheap 
place.  She  was  a  fair  type  of  many  thousands  of  mechanics' 
wives  in  New  York.  It  is  a  pity  that  so  few  of  them  have 
the  means  for  doing  all  that  their  abilities  fit  them  for.  Their 
first  dispute  was  about  newspapers  ;  he  wanted  the  Tribune, 
because  it  advocated  elevating  the  laborer ;  she  wanted  the 
Sun  because  it  was  only  a  cent,  and  because  her  mother  took 
it.  Sometimes  he  would  jump  up  and  leave  his  work,  be 
gone  an  hour  or  so,  and  she  found  out  he  went  to  look  at  the 
Tribune.  Then  she  took  it,  because  she  was  afraid  if  he  was 
out  much  he  might  get  in  the  habit  of  drinking.  A  woman 
neglects  if  she  does  not  keep  watch  of  her  husband,  for  if  he 
goes  astray  all  is  lost. 

When  the  baby  came,  which  it  did  in  good  season,  they 
had  been  so  saving  and  so  fortunate  as  to  have  fifty  dollars 
laid  by,  and  they  had  good  clothes  for  themselves  and  the 
new  comer.  In  one  thing  he  was  disappointed.  He  had  ex- 
pected to  see  a  way  open  to  become  a  boss.  He  had  neither 
capital  nor  business  knowledge,  but  he  thought  he  would 
try.  He  bought  leather  and  made  a  case  of  fine  boots.  He 
gold  them  after  some  running,  but  the  profit  was  not  great, 
and  he  had  pieces  of  leather  left  which  he  could  not  use.  On 
reflection,  he  went  back  to  work  for  his  old  boss.  Still,  he 
did  not  believe  in  working  always  for  others :  some  day,  he 
would  get  money  enough  to  leave  the  city,  and  start  a  shop 


THE  SHOEMAKER'S  STEIKE.  265 

in  some  Jersey  village.  This  his  wife  would  not  listen  to ; 
she  believed  in  Xew  York ;  there  was  no  other  place  in  the 
world  equal  to  it;  there  she  would  live,  there  she  would 
die.  So  they  continued  to  live  for  several  years.  In  four 
years  they  had  saved  two  hundred  dollars,  which  they  put 
in  the  bank  and  got  interest  on  it.  They  would  have  made 
more,  but  there  was  a  new  comer  every  year  or  so,  which 
cost  money,  and  though  Clara  worked  hard,  still  she  earned 
less  by  her  shoe-binding  and  shirt-making,  because  so  much 
of  her  time  was  required  for  other  things.  When  ten  years 
had  passed  they  had  four  hundred  dollars  in  the  Savings 
Bank.  Then  he  was  going  to  start  a  shop  ;  and  one  day  he 
brought  a  man  who  was  going  in  with  him  ;  they  would  do 
all  sorts  of  work ;  they  would  have  journeymen  and  appren- 
tices, and  soon  would  be  rich.  Clara  did  not  like  the  looks 
of  the  man  ;  she  told  her  husband  aside  he  would  not  do ;  he 
was  persuaded,  and  put  him  off.  This  was  fortunate,  for 
Mr.  Gale  soon  found  out  that  he  was  a  sharper. 

One  morning  Mr.  Gale  met  his  oldest  son  on  the  stairs, 
starting  for  school,  and  he  saw  him  put  something  in  his 
mouth.  What  was  it  ?  Xothing.  He  brought  the  young 
chap  into  the  room  where  he  worked.  Clara  hearing  the 
shuffling,  had  come  in.  Xow  what  was  it?  His  cheek  stuck 
out ;  the  boy  stood  on  one  leg  and  looked  around.  At  last 
his  father  forced  open  his  mouth,  and  with  his  awl  picked  out 
a  tobacco  quid.  Did  any  body  ever  hear  of  a  boy  of  his  age 
doing  like  this  ?  he  must  stop  it  or  he  will  be  whipped.  He 
was  questioned — and  told  some  things ;  the  other  children  told 
more.  There  was  quite  a  development  regarding  his  com- 
panions and  his  habits.  Some  drinking  had  been  going  on. 
Clara  opened  her  eyes ;  she  had  been  thinking  her  boy  the 
finest  young  chap  in  the  city.  Shortly  after  she  found  a  box 
well  filled  with  tobacco  in  his  pocket ;  he  implored  her  not 
to  tell;  she  was  deaf;  his  father  took  his  strap  to  him — and 
the  habit  was  broken  up. 

This,  and  other  similar  matters  set  Mr.  Gale  to  thinking. 
The  slow  \vay  he  was  getting  along  set  him  to  thinking ;  so 
12 


266  LIFE   IN   THE   WEST. 

did  his  increasing  family.  Their  expenses,  too,  were  increas- 
ing ;  and  now  that  there  were  six  children  they  needed  more 
room ;  in  hot  weather  it  was  almost  impossible  to  cook,  eat 
and  live  in  one  room,  saying  nothing  about  places  to  sleep. 
Clara  went  out  several  times  to  hunt  for  a  house  with  more 
rooms.  She  saw  clearly  that  to  get  such  would  take  all  they 
had  been  in  the  habit  of  saving,  while  they  needed  this 
amount  extra  for  clothing  and  food.  They  talked  the  matter 
over.  Soon  the  time  would  come  when  they  could  lay  up 
nothing,  and  they  could  have  no  more  room.  Henry  was 
taken  from  school  and  was  set  to  learning  his  father's  trade. 
It  was  a  pity  to  break  him  off — he  was  just  beginning  to 
learn  fast ;  but  there  was  no  help  for  it.  In  thinking  of  his 
prospects,  Mr.  Gale  became  melancholy,  almost  discouraged. 
He  lost  flesh ;  his  face  became  sickly  and  pale;  he  said  little. 
Clara  kept  good  courage.  She  was  still  fresh  and  rosy,  for 
she  had  all  the  running  to  do.  Every  day  she  would  go 
into  Orchard  street  to  see  her  mother,  and  to  hear  and  tell 
the  news.  She  called  on  others,  but  all  her  visits  were  short. 

Every  morning  Mr.  Gale  would  go  to  his  bench  and  work 
till  breakfast,  then  he  would  look  over  the  paper  and  then 
work  again  ;  he  worked  all  day  long.  He  did  not  sing  any 
more  while  at  woi'k.  In  the  evening  he  would  walk  out  in 
the  park,  often  alone.  I  doubt  not  but  you  often  saw  him. 
Sometimes  he  would  go  with  Clara  to  a  free  lecture ;  neither 
could  dress  as  well  as  formerly,  and  they  paid  few  visits. 
This  was  hard  on  Clara.  To  live  in  New  York  and  not  dress 
well  was  a  real  grief. 

In  the  midst  came  a  financial  crash.  Merchants  Avere  fail- 
ing, and  there  was  a  run  on  the  banks.  Early  in  the  morn- 
ing Clara  went  to  draw  their  money.  She  did  not  come 
back  till  five  o'clock.  Only  by  keeping  in  her  place  was  she 
able  to  get  to  the  counter  late  in  the  day.  Afterwards  she 
came  near  being  robbed.  The  bank  proved  sound,  and  in  a 
week  she  put  it  back  again. 

One  morning  Mr.  Gale  did  not  go  to  work ;  he  sat  in  her 
rocking-chair  reading  the  paper.  Clara  left  off  getting  break- 


THE  SHOEMAKER'S  STRIKE.  267 

fast  to  ask  if  he  was  well.  Yes,  but  he  was  thinking ;  he 
intended  to  spend  some  time  in  thinking.  All  the  children 
came  to  look  at  him.  It  was  strange  father  was  not  at  work ; 
they  were  afraid  something  would  happen.  When  he  got 
his  breakfast,  he  took  his  hat  and  went  out ;  his  bench  looked 
lonely  enough,  with  the  leather  apron  spread  over  it.  Surely 
something  was  going  to  happen — he  had  never  been  this 
way  before.  But  he  was  getting  poorly;  a  walk  clown  to 
the  Battery  or  a  stroll  across  the  river  would  do  him  good. 
She  got  him  an  extra  dinner;  the  table-cloth  was  as  white  as 
snow ;  the  room  was  scoured  and  cleaned ;  father  should  see 
they  had  not  been  idle.  He  did  not  come  back  at  noon.  The 
dinner  was  all  ready.  She  sent  the  children  out  to  see  if  he 
was  coming,  and  she  kept  looking  out  of  the  window.  At 
last  she  saw  him  walking  fast  with  the  children  holding  to 
his  fingers.  He  seemed  quite  bright.  He  had  been  over  to 
Hoboken  sitting  under  some  trees,  and  he  had  got  through 
thinking ;  he  was  on  a  strike.  On  a  strike  !  the  papers  had 
said  nothing  about  it.  It  was  a  curious  time  to  go  on  a 
strike  when  he  thought  himself  well  off  to  get  work  at  all. 
!N"o  matter,  he  was  on  a  strike.  Strike  about  what,  pray  tell  ? 
About  work ;  he  was  not  going  to  stand  it ;  others  might, 
he  wouldn't.  They  talk  about  slaves,  he  was  one ;  now  he 
was  going  to  be  free.  He  would  leave  the  city,  he  would 
buy  land  and  turn  farmer.  Certainly  he  must  be  crazy ;  and 
she  gave  him  to  understand  she  was  not  going  to  Jersey. 
He  said  that  was  no  place.  He  was  going  west,  to  Illinois. 
Let  her  look  at  that  letter  and  that  pamphlet.  Yes,  he  must 
be  crazy ;  and  she  wondered  if  he  thought  she  was  going  to 
Illinois  to  live  among  the  Choctaws,  the  Cherokees,  and  the 
Pottawattomies.  He  told  her  she  was  beside  herself  to  talk 
about  Indians  in  Illinois.  There  were  none  within  a  thou- 
sand miles.  It  seems  he  had  got  into  correspondence  with 
the  Commissioner  of  the  Land  Department  of  the  Illinois 
Central  Railroad.  Great  inducements  were  held  out,  and 
the  general  statements  were  illustrated  by  accounts  from 
settlers.  Clara  read  them  over,  but  could  not  bear  the  idea 


268  LIFE   IN  THE  WEST. 

of  leaving  New  York,  and  of  nerer  seeing  her  relations  and 
friends  again.  He  talked  with  her  and  showed  her  that  they 
were  doing  little,  and  were  likely  to  do  less,  and  what  they 
paid  for  meat  in  four  years  would  buy  them  a  farm,  when 
not  only  would  it  be  their  own,  but  it  would  support  them, 
and  be  worth  more  than  the  house  and  lot  itself.  She  would 
not  go  ;  she  knew  it  would  make  her  miserable,  and  her  chil- 
dren never  could  be  any  thing. 

Then  she  went  to  talk  with  her  parents.  What  was  her 
surprise  to  hear  her  father  say  it  would  be  a  good  plan ; 
he  had  known  many  who  went  west  do  well.  With  com- 
mon industry  they  could  not  fail ;  in  fact,  he  had  made  up 
his  mind  that  when  he  should  lose  his  place  in  the  custom- 
house to  go  himself.  She  knew  not  what  to  think.  She 
said  they  were  all  against  her.  All  she  could  do  was  to 
cry.  Thomas  had  always  been  led  by  her,  and  she  thought 
she  could  control  him.  This  was  a  mistake.  The  first  thing 
she  knew  he  had  the  children  on  his  side,  for  he  told  them 
such  fine  stories  about  the  West,  how  the  strawberries  grew 
among  the  grass,  how  there  were  nuts  of  all  kinds,  and 
apples,  peaches  and  pears ;  everywhere  flowers  bloomed,  and 
milk  was  only  a  cent  a  quart. 

Clara  held  out  several  weeks,  but  seeing  there  would  be 
no  peace,  she  made  up  her  mind  to  go,  and  then  went  to 
work  to  get  them  good  clothes.  She  visited  auction-shops 
and  other  places  where  she  could  buy  things  cheap,  then 
they  started  for  Illinois. 

At  Chicago  the  Commissioner  was  surprised  to  see  a  man 
come  in  this  way,  with  his  goods  and  his  family,  for  usually 
one  comes  and  picks  out  a  place  first  and  then  sends  for 
his  family.  Fearing  that,  as  they  were  used  to  a  city  life, 
they  would  become  discouraged  if  they  went  on  a  farm 
entirely  new,  he  sent  along  an  agent  to  show  them  one  of 
those  farms  which  squatters  abandoned  when  the  Company 
took  possession,  for  they  settled  intending  never  to  buy,  but 
to  sell  the  improvements.  They  left  Chicago  in  tho  night, 
and  the  next  day  were  put  off  at  a  new  station  in  the  middle 


THE  SHOEMAKER'S  STRIKE.  269 

of  the  State.  There  was  no  place  for  them  to  stay,  and  a 
team  was  hired  to  take  them  to  Mr.  Goodman's,  who  lived 
near  the  farm  the  agent  thought  would  suit. 

Mr.  Goodman  lived  about  three  miles  from  the  railroad ; 
he  came  from  Kentucky  twenty  years  before,  and  by  industry 
had  become  wealthy. 

The  family  arrived  toward  night.  Mr.  Goodman  was 
willing  to  keep  them  until  they  could  look  around ;  he  was 
anxious  to  have  the  country  settled,  and  he  would  help  them 
all  he  could.  He  had  a  good  orchard  ;  it  was  in  the  fall  of 
the  year,  and  there  were  plenty  of  apples.  One  saw  a  large 
plain  house,  long  cribs  of  corn,  for  it  was  cheap  and  he  had 
sold  little,  and  hogs,  horses  and  cattle  in  abundance.  Sup- 
per was  ready,  and  they  sat  down  at  a  long  table,  and  were 
surprised  to  see  such  large  dishes  of  meat,  potatoes,  butter 
and  the  like,  and  they  thought  he  must  be  very  rich.  They 
did  not  understand  how  plentiful  food  is  in  the  interior  of 
this  State.  All  were  glad  to  get  to  bed  and  have  some  sleep 
after  their  long  journey. 

After  breakfast  they  went  over  to  look  at  the  farm,  which 
was  scarcely  a  quarter  of  a  mile  distant.  It  consisted  of 
forty  acres ;  eight  or  ten  were  partly  fenced.  There  was  a 
ruined  log-house,  and  half  a  dozen  old  apple-trees  as  much 
neglected  as  possible.  A  creek  was  one  hide  of  the  lot,  and 
there  were  about  five  acres  of  timber,  which  the  agent  and 
Mr.  Goodman  spoke  of  as  being  of  great  value ;  all  the  rest 
was  raw  prairie,  and  there  was  scarcely  a  house  in  sight. 

When  Clara  went  into  the  house,  which  had  neither  win- 
dow nor  door,  she  said  it  was  fit  only  for  hogs  ;  indeed,  hogs 
had  been  lying  in  it.  It  was  a  most  doleful-looking  place. 
When  they  had  looked  around,  which  did  not  take  long, 
Mr.  Gale  took  his  wife  aside  and  told  her  he  was  sorry  he 
had  brought  her  to  such  a  place ;  he  confessed  he  was  wrong, 
but  he  would  take  her  back  to  New  York.  He  would  work 
faithfully  and  never  complain  again.  He  had  no  idea  that 
everything  was  so  new,  so  rough,  and  required  so  much 
work  to  make  a  beginning. 


270  LIFE  IX  THE  WEST. 

She  asked  him  if  their  long  journey  and  the  spending  of 
so  much  money  was  to  go  for  nothing.  He  was  sorry ;  he 
had  done  what  he  thought  was  best,  but  he  saw  she  would 
not  be  pleased.  How  did  he  know  she  was  not  pleased? 
He  only  supposed  so.  He  asked  if  they  had  not  better  go 
into  some  village  or  town  ? 

Then  she  told  him  she  had  been  talking  with  Mrs.  Good- 
man ;  they  lived  three  weeks  at  first  in  their  wagon,  but  they 
got  along  well  enough  in  a  little  time.  Then  she  told  him 
how  cheap  everything  was,  and  they  could  buy  a  cow  for 
what  milk  cost  them  in  three  months  in  New  York.  She 
was  going  to  stay ;  she  was  going  to  have  no  such  foolish 
business.  He  could  work  couldn't  he  ?  Oh,  yes.  Well,  he 
had  better  buy  the  place.  Mr.  Goodman  said  the  house 
could  be  fixed  up  in  a  few  days ;  and  more  than  this,  he 
could  get  all  the  work  he  wanted  to  do  at  his  trade,  and  then 
have  men  to  work  for  him.  The  boys  could  learn  to  work, 
and  it  would  do  them  good. 

Accordingly  the  place  was  bought.  They  paid  8250 
down.  The  agent  said  they  had  better  keep  some  money ; 
the  amount  due  could  remain  on  interest,  and  there  would 
be  no  trouble  in  meeting  payments,  for  he  would  have  six 
years'  time.  The  house  was  made  habitable  and  they  moved 
into  it.  Some  lumber  was  bought,  and  an  addition  was 
built  for  two  bed-rooms,  and  they  lived  comfortably. 

After  a  little  they  found  out  that  they  had  many 
neighbors,  though  few  were  very  near.  They  lived  around 
on  the  edge  of  the  timber.  All  these  wanted  shoemaking 
done,  and  to  please  them  and  get  acquainted,  Mr.  Gale  went 
to  their  houses  to  do  it,  and  worked  up  their  own  leather. 
This  was  called  "whipping  the  cat."  He  was  not  much 
used  to  general  custom  work,  but  he  could  do  it.  When  the 
young  men  found  out  what  elegant  boots  he  could  make, 
he  had  jobs  enough  to  do.  Then  he  bought  his  own  leather. 

Often  he  said  to  himself  and  to  his  family,  "  What  a  fool  I 
was."  He  was  thinking  of  the  high  prices  he  was  getting, 
which  was  what  the  storekeepers  charged  at  retail.  Before, 


THE  SHOEMAKER'S  STRIKE.  271 

he  only  got  wholesale  prices.  Now  he  had  the  profits  of  at 
least  three  classes  of  men :  first,  those  of  the  wholesale 
merchant ;  second,  of  the  freight  line  companies  ;  and  third, 
of  the  retailer.  Much  more  than  this,  his  rent  cost  nothing, 
and  his  provisions  cost  nearly  nothing,  for  he  had  the  same 
advantages  here  in  buying  of  first  hands  that  he  had  in 
working  directly  for  his  customers.  Middle-men  were  mak- 
ing nothing  out  of  him. 

One  evening  he  figured  up  how  much  better  he  was  do- 
ing, and  it  was  clear  he  was  doing  twice  as  well.  The  ad- 
vantage on  his  side  was  fully  equal  to  three  hundred  dollars 
a  year  clear  money,  and  this  while  they  had  everything 
to  buy. 

They  had  schools  and  meetings.  It  is  true  there  were 
deficiencies.  But  is  was  some  comfort  to  Clara  that  they 
dressed  as  well  as  the  rest,  and  that  there  were  none  to  look 
down  upon  them.  In  the  city,  it  is  an  immense  distance 
to  such  a  position.  Even  with  old  clothes,  scarcely  fit  to 
wear  in  the  city,  they  could  stand  well  enough.  There  was 
much — she  felt  it,  and  it  was  so — that  by  her  habit  of  speak- 
ing, and  her  acquaintance  in  society,  she  and  her  children 
could  pass  well  in  any  company.  She  imagined  she  was 
imitated. 

Mr.  Gale  earned  enough  during  the  winter  to  have  rails 
made  and  laid  up,  and  several  acres  of  prairie  broken.  Then 
they  planted  corn,  potatoes  and  the  like,  and  had  a  garden. 
Of  course  they  were  awkward,  and  remarks  were  made ;  but 
they  learned,  and  they  did  not  do  a  thing  wrong  more  than 
twice. 

Mr.  Goodman  helped  them,  and  they  took  his  advice  to 
plant  an  orchard.  A  horse  was  bought,  and  plows  and  other 
tools ;  so  were  hogs  and  cows,  which  ran  on  the  open  prairie. 

Mr.  Gale  was  not  ignorant  of  farm  work,  but  here  they 
do  differently  from  what  they  do  in  the  East.  The  main 
point  was  whether  he  could  work.  Since  he  was  married, 
he  had  worked  hard.  He  knew  what  it  was  to  stick  to  it 
from  morning  till  night,  month  after  month,  always.  For  a 


272  LIFE   IN    THE   WEST. 

mechanic  to  live  in  the  city  he  must  work  much  more  than 
a  farmer  does  in  the  country.  He  was  faithful.  He  hoed  his 
corn,  which  few  did  ;  and  he  had  the  heaviest  and  best  crop 
in  the  Settlement.  This  gave  him  a  plenty  of  pork,  and  he 
even  sold  some. 

When  the  weather  was  bad  he  worked  at  his  trade,  and 
he  always  had  a  pair  of  fine  boots  on  hand  to  make.  I  have 
noticed  others  out  of  a  city  besides  him.  They  do  more 
work  than  the  old  farmers ;  often  they  are  the  best  farmers. 
Such  men  always  read  agricultural  papers.  They  had  some 
books,  and  they  took  the  weekly  edition  of  their  old  friend. 

Those  who  do  not  know,  will  be  astonished  to  learn  that 
young  people  can  become  excellently  Avell  informed  by  read- 
ing a  first-class  weekly  paper  like  this.  Add  common  school 
advantages,  and  they  will  have  what  anywhere  will  pass  for 
a  good  education. 

Of  course  they  met  with  difficulties ;  some  things  were 
dark ;  but  never,  never  were  they  so  dark  as  they  always 
were  in  the  city.  The  great  consoling  fact  continually  was 
before  them  that  they  had  a  home  of  their  own — that  every 
year,  on  the  whole,  they  made  progress.  They  built  a  new 
house,  which  was  painted  wThite,  and  had  green  blinds ;  and 
finally,  the  orchard  was  loaded  with  apples.  When  the  war 
came  the  father  and  son  volunteered.  It  may  not  be  pleas- 
ant to  relate — but  it  was  so — the  father  was  only  a  lieu- 
tenant, the  son  was  a  captain. 

After  a  time,  Clara's  father  came  out  west  to  get  him  a 
farm,  having  heard  how  well  they  were  doing.  One  morn- 
ing he  was  looking  around  for  Clara.  Going  to  the  north 
side  of  the  house,  along  the  Avell-worn  path,  hardened  with 
blue  grass,  and  where  fallen  apples  lay,  he  saw  her  down  in 
the  cellar.  "What  are  you  doing,  Clara?"  "Come  down 
and  see."  He  went  down  and  found  her  taking  butter  out 
of  a  barrel  churn.  "Why,  you  make  your  own  butter; 
what  a  sight  of  it !  How  much  is  there  ?"  "  About  eight 
pounds."  "Ah,  ha  !  And  ho\v  often  do  you  get  so  much  ?" 
"  Every  other  day — sometimes  every  day.  We  keep  seven 


THE  SHOEMAKER'S  STRIKE.  273 

cows.  We  make  much  more  since  we  built  the  ice-house." 
"  Ice,  eh  ?  Why,  you  have  things  quite  city-like.  Now, 
Clara,  what  will  such  a  lot  of  butter  bring  ?  It  is  high 
now,  but  it  is  good."  "  Well,  not  far  from  two  dollars. 
I  tell  you,  father,  it  will  bring  more  than  I  used  to  get  in 
binding  slices  a  whole  week,  and  I  do  not  work  half  as 
hard."  "  Yes,  I  see  you  are  doing  well.  Your  oldest  girl, 
you  say,  is  married  to  a  rich  farmer,  and  you  are  keeping 
your  next  at  the  Normal  School  at  Bloomington.  I  see  now, 
when  Thomas  struck,  as  you  were  telling  me,  he  made  a  good 
strike  ;  and  it  strikes  me  that  a  good  many  mechanics  in  our 
city  will  do  well  to  strike  in  the  same  way." 


HENRIETTA, 

TULIUS  CAIRD  was  born  and  brought  up  in  one  of  the 
fj  southern  counties  of  the  State  of  New  York.  His  father- 
was  a  farmer.  He  thought  he  would  learn  the  carpenter's 
trade,  and  did  so.  There  was  not  work  enough;  he  would 
travel  and  seek  it.  He  had  been  well  brought  up ;  his 
mother  had  taken  trouble  to  teach  him  everything  good ;  he 
had  a  fair  common  school  education,  and  could  write  a  good 
hand.  His  face  was  rather  handsome;  his  manners  were 
pleasing.  On  his  departure,  his  parents  gave  him  much 
good  advice  and  their  best  wishes.  The  last  words  of  his 
mother  were  that  he  must  remember  his  Creator  in  the  days 
of  his  youth. 

Many  were  going  west.  He  went  south  into  Pennsyl- 
vania, and  coming  to  the  county  seat  of  a  rich  county  he 
found  work.  The  people  were  Germans ;  everybody  spoke 
this  language ;  there  were  not  more  than  a  dozen  Yankees 
in  the  town.  Of  course  the  business-men  could  speak 
English ;  almost  every  one  could  speak  a  little. 

The  town  stood  on  the  bank  of  a  small  but  beautiful  river. 
Above  and  below  were  green  meadows;  beyond  were  high 
hills,  and  beyond  these  were  fine  farms.  The  merchants  had 
large  stocks  of  goods ;  the  mechanics  had  all  they  could  do. 
The  streets  were  paved ;  there  was  hydrant  water.  There 
were  two  German  newspapers  and  one  English ;  five  churches 
and  one  English,  and  there  were  many  good  taverns.  Two 
lines  of  stages  ran  through  the  town — one  from  Philadelphia 
and  one  from  Harrisburg. 

This  is  one  of  the  many  counties  where  the  farmers  have 
(274) 


HENRIETTA.  275 

got  rich ;  where  fortunes  have  been  made  by  raising  wheat 
after  clover.  It  is  limestone  land,  naturally  rich,  and  the 
clover  has  made  it  richer.  They  have  some  fruit,  and  might 
have  more ;  all  crops  are  good ;  their  horses  are  excellent. 
This  is  a  country  of  good  roads  and  good  bridges.  Here 
are  the  large  stone  barns,  with  gilt  signs,  on  which  are  let- 
tered the  names  of  the  farmer  and  his  wife.  Their  houses 
are  good,  frequently  two  stories,  of  blue  limestone.  Very 
many  of  the  farmers  could  not  speak  a  word  of  English ; 
usually,  there  was  a  boy  or  girl  about  who  could.  They 
dressed  their  clover  with  plaster-of-pai'is.  Some  put  on  lime, 
and  had  kilns  of  their  own  where  they  burnt  it.  Every- 
where was  high  culture.  This  is  an  easy  way  to  farm ;  that 
is,  when  you  can  get  at  it.  Their  houses  were  well  fur- 
nished from  top  to  bottom,  and  there  was  every  comfort.  It 
is  understood  that  large  sums  in  specie  are  hoarded  in  these 
houses.  It  has  been  estimated  at  thirty  millions  of  dollars. 
Perhaps  this  is  the  only  large  section  of  our  country  where 
the  land  has  constantly  been  kept  good. 

Mr.  Caird  had  a  plenty  of  work.  For  two  dollars  a  week 
he  got  board  at  a  tavern,  and  he  had  a  room  to  himself.  The 
fare  was  excellent.  Perhaps  he  had  too  much  meat  and 
sausage.  Wages  were  low ;  his  duty  was  to  save  his  money. 
He  worked  faithfully,  and  neither  drank  nor  swore.  He 
dressed  neatly,  attended  church,  and  was  respected.  Ho 
was  ambitious  to  get  along.  His  notion  was  to  become  a 
boss  carpenter.  To  succeed,  he  studied  architecture  and 
made  himself  acquainted  with  fine  work.  He  was  particular 
in  doing  his  work  well,  and  never  to  call  a  job  finished  when 
it  was  any  way  imperfect.  Also,  he  was  quick.  To  be  cor- 
rect and  yet  slow  will  not  satisfy.  One  must  have  ready 
thoughts  and  a  strong  arm.  To  succeed  in  any  calling,  many 
things  are  required.  Temperate  habits  underlie  all.  Time, 
too,  is  required.  Mr.  Caird  strove  to  have  every  quality. 
The  first  fruit  of  his  labor  was  to  buy  a  lot  and  build  on  it  a 
small  house,  which  he  rented.  This  gave  him  standing.  He 
was  looked  upon  as  one  of  the  citizens. 


270  LIFE  IN   THE  WEST. 

At  first  people  took  no  particular  notice  of  him ;  no  one  knew 
how  long  he  would  stay.  They  were  suspicious  of  Yankees 
— Yankees  had  sold  them  copper  for  gold  jewelry  and  clocks 
which  would  not  run.  Mr.  Caird  wanted  to  please  them ; 
he  was  going  to  make  his  home  with  them.  He  took  pains 
to  learn  from  the  workmen  how  they  named  their  tools  and 
the  parts  of  their  work.  Then  he  got  the  names  of  com- 
mon things,  after  that,  the  words  which  described  and  ex- 
pressed existence  and  action,  thus  picking  up  the  language 
by  piecemeal.  After  a  while  people  found  out  it  would  not 
do  to  talk  about  him  in  his  presence.  The  German  spoken 
here  is  corrupted,  as  the  scholars  from  the  old  country  say, 
but  they  understand  each  other.  Of  course  the  language  of 
the  common  people  is  different  from  the  written. 

Mr.  Caird,  instead  of  going  to  the  English  Church,  went 
to  the  Lutheran  and  other  churches  where  the  German  was 
spoken.  Here  were  large  crowds.  The  organ  sounded ; 
there  were  strange  movements  and  ceremonies.  The  women 
were  devout,  and  richly  dressed.  Sometimes,  with  white 
caps  on  their  heads,  they  would  walk  around  the  centre  of 
the  church  while  the  minister  waved  something  over  their 
heads,  and  they  all  sang  and  the  organ  played.  On  new 
year's  eve  there  were  great  doings ;  all  the  bells  rang  ;  every- 
body seemed  to  be  in  the  churches;  it  was  snowing  and 
stormy  without,  within,  it  was  pleasant  and  bright ;  and  with 
their  singing  and  their  ceremonies  they  waited  and  watched 
till  midnight,  when  the  old  year  went  out  and  the  new  came 
in.  There  had  been  low  wailing  on  the  organ  for  the  dying 
year ;  when  the  clocks  in  the  steeples  struck  twelve,  all  the 
bells  rang  gaily,  the  organs  piped  high,  and  the  people 
united  in  the  song  of  welcome.  Many  of  their  usages  have 
come  down  from  the  days  when  the  Roman  legions  pene- 
trated the  forests  of  their  Fatherland.  Coming  hither  in  a 
body,  few  things  were  changed.  In  old  Germany,  Frankfort, 
Berlin,  Munich,  Dresden,  one  will  see  the  same  things  he 
sees  here.  There  is  more  literature  among  the  Pennsylvanian 
Germans  than  one  might  suppose.  The  works  of  the  late 


HENRIETTA.  277 

classic  writers — Goethe,  Herder,  Schiller  and  the  like,  are 
common. 

Mr.  Caird  mingled  with  the  people  as  a  practical  man. 
Of  course  he  associated  with  the  young.  At  first  he  knew 
not  what  to  make  of  their  amusements  and  strange  plays. 
Soon  he  became  almost  like  the  rest.  It  is  pleasant  and 
easy  to  get  around  in  these  towns  on  winter  nights.  Most 
of  the  streets  are  lighted  with  gas ;  there  is  no  mud ;  coal 
is  cheap,  and  all  the  houses  are  warm.  There  were  then  but 
two  classes,  the  ignorant  and  the  poor,  and  the  common 
thrifty  rich  people.  The  girls  and  young  men  of  rich 
parents  dressed  no  better  and  were  no  prouder  than  the 
others.  Evening  parties  and  social  meetings  were  numer- 
ous. On  cold  nights  it  was  common  for  a  couple  to  go  round 
from  house  to  house.  Some  would  be  at  home,  some  not. 
At  such  times  they  would  enter  quiet  parlors  where  the 
family  sat ;  next,  where  other  couples  like  themselves  had 
called  and  were  talking;  and  next,  where  the  room  was 
crowded  and  there  were  merry  plays.  If  the  girls  present 
did  not  like  to  play  on  the  piano,  or  were  too  young,  the 
mother  would  sit  down  and  perform  some  grand  march  or 
sweet  old  time  song.  Education,  even  long  ago,  was  not 
neglected.  Many  of  these  mothers  had  been  to  school  in 
Philadelphia,  more  at  Bethlehem,  a  Moravian  institution, 
where  the  Christian  doctrines  of  Zinzindorf  were  practically 
carried  out.  In  many  respects  the  Moravians  here,  and  at 
Xazarcth,  six  miles  distant,  come  nearer  to  having  what  is 
agreed  to  be  true  religion  than  any  other  people.  Of  late, 
however,  there  are  changes. 

Such  was  the  way  the  young  people  of  the  town  passed 
their  winter  evenings.  In  the  summer  they  used  to  walk  in 
the  meadows.  At  the  foot  of  the  mountains  near  which 
the  river  ran,  were  large  springs,  some  giving  water  enough 
to  carry  mill-wheels.  On  Lord's  day  afternoon  it  was  cus- 
tomary to  walk  into  the  beautiful  grave-yard.  The  ground 
was  shaded  with  tine  trees,  and  the  German  inscriptions  on 
the  tombstones  made  it  a  strange  and  interesting  place. 


278  LIFE   IN  THE  WEST. 

Mr.  Caird  used  to  take  out  different  girls.  At  first  his 
girl  was  a  sort  of  curiosity,  and  privately  she  would  be 
asked  how  he  acted.  Before  he  could  speak  much  German 
they  were  so  polite  as  always  to  speak  English.  But  he 
strove  to  learn  their  tongue,  and  they  helped  him.  He 
learned  more  from  them  than  any  other  source.  When  he 
made  mistakes,  they  laughed  merrily.  At  some  mistakes 
they  would  look  at  each  other  and  be  very  grave,  then  they 
would  tell  him  how  to  speak  it.  In  a  year  or  so  he  was  even 
with  them,  for  he  could  speak  their  language  as  well  as  they 
could  his.  Still,  there  were  girls  who  had  been  to  school 
abroad ;  they  spoke  very  correctly,  and  they  had  every  ac- 
complishment. Such,  likely  enough,  had  friends  in  Phila- 
delphia, and  there  they  visited  and  mingled  in  the  best  so- 
ciety. Here  was  their  home ;  they  strove  to  make  it  pleasant. 
It  will  be  many  years  before  the  German  language  will  die 
out  in  this  region.  It  has  great  vitality.  The  wealth  and 
the  vast  number  of  the  people  using  it  give  it  dignity.  But 
its  antagonist  will  conquer.  It  is  a  conqueror.  There  is 
reason  to  believe  it  will  conquer  through  the  world.  There 
are  no  laws  and  no  conditions  given  to  mankind,  whether 
in  Europe  or  America,  iu  China,  in  India  or  Japan,  so  im- 
perative and  enforced  by  so  much  power  as  those  written  in 
the  English  language.  The  people  who  speak  it  gave  the 
first — they  have  given  the  last  blows  to  human  slavery. 

Among  these  ladies  one  at  last  attracted  Mr.  Caird.  This 
was  Henrietta  Kaufman.  She  was  a  young  widow  without 
children.  Her  husband  had  been  a  county  oflicer.  He  died 
shortly  after  her  marriage,  leaving  her  a  fine  farm  a  mile  or 
so  from  town,  a  large  stone  residence  in  town,  and  money  in 
the  bank.  He  was  a  descendant  of  thrifty  farmers.  His 
brothers  and  sisters  also  had  good  property.  Henrietta  was 
educated  at  Bethlehem.  She  was  as  good  looking  as  the 
best.  Perhaps  she  was  a  little  too  fleshy.  The  seams  of 
her  dress  around  her  shoulders  and  breast  were  very  strong. 
Her  cheeks  were  as  red  as  if  painted  with  cherry  paint,  and 
her  eyes  were  as  sparkling  and  as  clear  as  the  water  of  her 


HENRIETTA.  279 

native  river.  Her  husband  having  been  dead  a  couple  of 
years,  she  became  as  gay  as  the  rest  and  was  counted  as  one 
among  the  voung  people.  She  had  little  occupation.  Clearly 
she  would  marry  again  when  the  right  man  should  come. 
Often  Mr.  Caird  was  her  beau,  so,  too,  were  others ;  but 
it  was  seen  he  had  a  fancy  for  her,  and  jokes  about  them 
were  common.  May  be  they  would  make  a  match. 

This  pleased  Mr.  Caird  well  enough,  but  he  was  convinced 
she  would  think  of  nothing  of  the  kind  while  he  was  so  poor 
and  so  little  known.  As  a  companion  in  company  he  was 
well  enough ;  to  become  the  husband  of  such  a  woman  was 
quite  a  different  thing.  He  had  mind  enough  to  see  that 
only  one  course  was  open  to  him.  He  must  be  successful  in 
business  and  must  have  wealth,  or  at  least  show  that  he  was 
in  the  way  to  it.  He  had  made  a  good  beginning  in  getting 
the  lot,  and  building  a  house. 

The  next  step  was  to  get  the  contract  for  building  a  cer- 
tain fine  residence  one  of  the  merchants  proposed  to  erect. 
He  was  known  to  be  a  good  workman,  but  there  were  com- 
petitors. He  drew  a  neat  plan  of  the  house,  which  pleased; 
made  close  calculations,  and  proposed  to  complete  it  for  a 
moderate  profit.  He  got  the  job.  With  all  his  energy  he 
went  to  work.  He  had  some  money ;  some  was  advanced. 
He  bought  timber  and  hired  workmen.  He  labored  early 
and  late ;  some  thought  he  was  doing  too  much,  but  they 
liked  his  spirit.  He  had  a  good  lot  of  hands ;  the  work 
progressed ;  in  due  time  it  was  finished.  The  owner  not 
only  was  satisfied,  he  was  delighted,  and  so  was  his  family. 
When  he  was  paid  off  his  profits  were  less  than  he  expected. 

Meanwhile,  another,  proposing  to  build,  had  been  watch- 
ing the  work.  He  knew  when  justice  was  done  to  a  job. 
He  could  see  that,  in  this  case,  it  was  done  well  from  the  foun- 
dation. Then  he  wanted  a  similar  house  built.  How  much 
would  he  ask  ?  Mr.  Caird  plainly  told  him  he  must  have 
more.  By  doing  jobs  so  cheap  he  might  be  ruined.  This 
the  man  knew.  He  wanted  faithful  work  done;  this  was 
of  more  consequence  than  money.  Then  Mr.  Caird  named 


2 SO  LIFE  IN  THE   WEST. 

his  price.  The  man  would  give  it.  By  the  time  this  house 
was  done  he  had  more  propositions.  He  had  the  credit  of 
being  an  honest,  first-class  workman,  who  knew  bow  to 
manage  hands  and  to  do  business.  He  still  labored  himself, 
particularly  on  fine,  nice  work;  but  the  many  workmen 
he  employed  required  much  of  his  time  to  oversee.  If 
they  put  up  work  he  did  not  like,  he  would  make  them  take 
it  down  ;  he  would  not  allow  them  to  spoil  his  reputation. 
If  they  complained  they  might  go  elsewhere. 

Of  course  such  a  man  takes  a  high  stand.  If  he  is  mode- 
rately saving  he  will  make  money.  Mr.  Caird  had  several 
thousand  dollars,  and  his  business  was  more  prosperous  than 
ever.  Then  he  proposed  to  the  widow.  Afterwards  she 
told  hirn  she  had  been  waiting  for  him.  They  had  a  grand 
wedding.  All  their  friends  were  invited.  Their  garments 
were  bought  in  Philadelphia  and  were  very  fine.  The  table 
was  set  with  every  delicacy  that  could  be  found  in  the  two 
great  cities. 

Thus,  by  his  faithful  industry,  united  with  a  scientific 
knowledge  of  his  trade,  and  notwithstanding  great  disad- 
vantages, Mr.  Caird  was  raised  to  a  high  position.  He  found 
his  wife  good-tempered  and  every  way  amiable.  She  loved 
him  much.  A  woman's  love  is  greatly  increased  if  she  can 
be  proud  of  her  husband.  In  that  community  it  is  an  honor 
to  be  useful.  Long  may  they  retain  this  great  idea.  He 
was  grateful  for  her  condescension  and  her  kindness.  His 
love  for  her,  his  hope  of  getting  her,  had  made  him  what  he 
was.  No  man  could  love  a  woman  more  than  did  he  his 
Henrietta. 

Some  time  after  their  marriage,  Mr.  Caird  was  induced  to 
run  for  an  important  county  office.  He  was  pleased  with 
the  notion,  and  there  were  hopes  of  his  getting  it,  for  the 
two  candidates  made  confusion  by  their  quarrels.  He  came 
out  as  an  independent  candidate,  and  constantly  rode  through 
the  county  talking  with  the  fanners.  He  was  the  first  Yankee 
who  ever  had  offered  for  any  office ;  it  was  a  condescension 
that  he  had  learned  their  language ;  they  liked  his  broken 


HENRIETTA.  281 

pronunciation ;  they  laughed  and  told  stories  together,  and 
he  pleased  them.  With  the  help  of  some  experienced  men, 
he  managed  sharply,  and  he  was  elected  by  a  few  votes. 
The  business  required  much  of  his  time,  and  he  gave  up  his 
trade.  Several  times  a  year  he  had  to  ride  over  the  whole 
county,  and  often  was  gone  a  week.  He  formed  a  large  ac- 
quaintance ;  his  object  was  to  become  one  of  the  first  men 
in  the  county,  and  he  succeeded.  He  cultivated  his  man- 
ners, which  were  naturally  pleasing ;  he  would  speak  to  men 
of  all  classes ;  no  matter  how  humble  a  man  might  be,  if  he 
asked  him  a  question,  he  got  a  eivil  answer.  This  is  one  of 
the  surest  roads  to  popularity.  Such  was  his  success  in 
whatever  he  undertook,  that  he  thought  he  could  do  every- 
thing. There  is  no  doubt  but  his  election  made  him  dizzy. 

In  county  seats  there  are  men  of  good  abilities,  but  of  no 
principle ;  frequently  they  own  or  control  much  property, 
and  because  they  are  not  well  known,  they  are  respected. 
The  time  always  comes  when  they  find  their  proper  level. 
Mr.  Caird  had  time  on  his  hands ;  he  cultivated  his  social 
habits.  With  these  men  he  became  intimate.  It  will  take 
much  time  to  tell  how  he  was  led  on.  To  some  extent  they 
led  each  other.  Such  things  grow.  They  used  to  meet  late 
at  night  high  up  in  the  back  room  of  a  third  story  building. 
First,  one  would  go  up,  then  another,  till  they  were  all  up. 
They  had  a  warm  comfortable  room,  and  lights  burning. 
The  weather  was  always  such  that  they  ought  to  take  some- 
thing. They  took  it.  Then  they  got  ont  the  table  and  went 
to  playing  cards.  The  curtains  were  drawn  close,  they  kept 
quiet  and  played  hour  after  hour.  Sometimes  people  below 
would  hear  the  sudden  moving  of  chairs,  the  tramping  of 
feet,  loud  angry  voices,  and  sounds  like  the  breaking  of 
glass. 

Mrs.  Caird  often  sat  up  waiting  for  him.  What  kept  him 
so  late  ?  He  had  an  immense  sight  of  business  to  do  at  the 
court-house.  So  much  writing — so  many  long  columns  of 
figures  to  add  up.  Yes,  but  his  breath  smelt  as  though  he 
had  been  drinking.  Did  it?  Come  to  think,  he  had  taken 


282  LIFE   IN    THE   WEST. 

a  glass  of  beer.  He  would  sleep  till  after  breakfast,  till  the 
clock  struck  twelve.  He  had  little  appetite;  his  eyes  were 
glassy  and  strange.  Such  and  such  men  had  been  to  see 
him ;  they  called  several  times.  If  that  was  so  he  must  hurry 
to  the  court-house.  Sometimes  he  would  look  at  the  baby ; 
often,  not. 

Mrs.  Caird  said  she  wanted  to  live  in  the  country.  She 
persuaded  him  to  move  on  the  farm.  Perhaps  if  he  would 
let  the  office  go  and  attend  to  farm  work,  he  would  enjoy 
himself  better.  He  did  not  dispute  it.  They  moved.  But 
things  went  no  better.  He  still  was  out  nights.  When  his 
term  of  office  expired,  he  ran  again.  To  the  surprise  of  many, 
he  was  beaten.  Some  who  had  been  his  best  friends,  and  who 
had  helped  him  get  a  start,  said  he  could  not  bear  prosperity. 
He  did  not  care ;  he  was  rich  enough.  Farming  was  a  busi- 
ness good  enough  for  him. 

One  day  an  officer  came  to  the  house  and  took  Mr.  Caird 
in  custody.  He  told  his  wife  it  was  nothing ;  he  would  soon 
come  back.  She  waited,  then  went  into  town  and  tried  to 
find  out  what  it  was.  Her  friends  knew,  but  would  not  tell 
her.  They  only  said  it  was  nothing.  Some  smiled  a  little. 
At  last  a  woman  was  glad  to  tell  her  the  nature  of  it.  Her 
husband  had  his  choice  to  pay  $500  down  or  $50  dollars  a 
year  for  twenty-one  years.  He  paid  the  $500  down.  But 
he  said  it  was  a  lie. 

This  was  a  most  terrible  blow  to  Mrs.  Caird.  She  uttered 
an  exclamation  in  German  which  does  not  sound  well  trans- 
lated, and  fainted  away.  She  was  taken  home.  Then  she 
had  fits.  Two  women  had  to  hold  her  hands,  for  she  had 
got  hold  of  one  of  her  silk  dresses,  and  torn  it  into  a  thousand 
strings.  When  the  doctor  came  she  was  gnashing  her  white 
teeth.  He  put  a  piece  of  soft  wood  between  them.  There 
was  blood  on  her  lips.  They  had  to  watch  her  lest  she  tore 
out  her  hair.  When  she  got  better  the  cherry  was  all  gone 
from  her  cheeks  ;  her  eyes  were  sunken  ;  she  had  a  frightened 
look,  and  she  hugged  her  two  children  to  her  heart. 

If  you  will  take  notice,  every  once  in  a  while  certain  careless, 


HENRIETTA.  283 

gentlemanly  men  come  out  of  the  large  cities  and  stop  at  the 
county  seats.  They  want  to  buy  stock  or  produce.  They 
stay  at  the  hotels  some  time  and  get  acquainted  with  every 
body.  They  play  checkers,  are  free  to  treat  are  good  com- 
panions. One  acquainted  with  human  nature  will  see  some- 
thing in  their  eyes  which  is  not  right.  Their  real  business 
is  to  hunt  up  country  gamblers,  such  as  were  playing  in  the 
third  story.  All  they  want  is  to  get  hold  of  them.  They 
know  how  to  finish  them.  They  have  no  more  human  feel- 
ings than  tigers.  When  one  gambles  he  defies  the  right  of 
property ;  he  strikes  at  the  foundation  of  honest  industry ; 
and  he  prepares  the  way  for  committing  every  crime.  The 
paths  to  intemperance,  to  licentiousness,  to  blasphemy,  to 
hard-heartedness,  dishonor,  shame,  to  penitentiaries,  to  the 
gallows,  and  to  yawning  sepulchres,  lead  from  the  gambler's 
table. 

At  last  these  men  got  hold  of  Mr.  Caird.  He  thought 
them  honest  gentlemen.  He  valued  his  knowledge  of  human 
nature,  but  it  was  confined  to  the  art  of  pleasing-;  it  did  not 
enable  him  to  know  himself.  For  a  week  he  was  with  them 
almost  every  night.  At  first  he  won  several  thousand  dol- 
lars. Then  they  made  him  a  poor  man.  His  wife  owned  the 
house  in  town ;  he  had  a  deed  of  the  farm  and  he  gambled  it 
away.  He  drew  checks  on  the  bank  and  lost  them.  Then 
he  made  notes  of  hand,  put  them  up,  and  lost  them. 

His  wife  knew  that  something  dreadful  was  going  on.  She 
implored  him  to  stay  at  home ;  he  would  not  listen ;  she  lost 
her  temper,  and  asked  him  if  he  was  not  after  more  five-hun- 
dred-dollar entertainments.  At  last  it  was  all  over ;  two 
men  came  home  with  him ;  they  steadied  him  to  a  chair  and 
finally  got  him  to  bed.  The  next  day  he  got  up,  and  going 
into  the  back  porch  sat  on  a  bench  under  a  grape-vine  and 
began  to  vomit.  His  wife  came  and  looked  at  him.  He  was 
drawn  into  a  heap,  his  torn  and  soiled  clothes  almost  hid 
him.  He  looked  like  a  wretch  ;  he  was  a  wretch. 

When  she  got  him  into  the  house,  she  locked  him  up  ;  then 
she  got  it  all  out  of  him.  He  told  her  everything  from  first 


284  LIFE   IX  THE  WEST. 

to  last.  She  was  so  astonished  she  did  not  faint ;  she  did 
not  go  into  tits.  Then  came  an  officer  with  a  warrant.  Some 
of  his  old  cronies  had  got  the  notes  and  they  sued  on  them. 
She  kept  him  hid  ;  she  did  not  exactly  know  where  he  was. 
She  might  have  said  she  had  no  husband. 

He  told  her  he  would  go  where  he  was  not  known ;  he 
promised  never  to  touch  liquor  or  a  card  again  ;  he  promised 
always  to  be  true  to  her.  She  made  him  swear  it  on  the  big 
German  Bible.  Mentally  he  took  a  stronger  oath ;  it  was  by 
the  memory  of  his  mother,  who  wns  dead.  She  got  his  clothes 
together  so  that  he  would  be  decent.  He  ate  his  breakfast 
before  daylight ;  then  he  bade  her  good-bye.  The  last  thing 
he  did  was  to  kiss  the  sleeping  children.  Xo,  there  was  an- 
other last  thing.  She  went  out  and  opened  the  large  gate. 
Day  was  just  beginning  to  break  over  the  distant  Blue  Moun- 
tains and  the  Delaware  Gap.  He  drove  two  fine  horses  and 
a  buggy  into  the  road.  There  was  a  large  chest  in  the  buggy 
which  brought  down  the  springs.  One  more  last  word.  He 
drove  away.  Ten  years  passed  before  they  met  again. 

She  gave  up  the  farm,  though  she  had  some  interest  in  it, 
and  moved  into  town.  She  had  some  funds,  for  she  had  not 
been  such  a  fool  as  not  to  be  prepared  for  what  might  hap- 
pen. She  sent  the  children  to  school ;  the  boy  to  Nazareth, 
the  girl  to  Bethlehem. 

He  reached  Pittsburg  ;  this  was  no  place  for  him.  He  en- 
tered Ohio ;  there,  many  came  from  Pennsylvania ;  then  he 
reached  Xew  England  settlements,  where  the  people  strug- 
gled with  the  forest.  Still  he  traveled  on.  He  considered 
different  locations ;  he  inquired  and  talked  with  many,  and 
went  on.  At  last  he  was  far  away.  There  was  no  mail  route 
near,  but  settlers  were  coming  in  from  New  York  and  Xe\v 
England.  Here  was  his  place.  He  selected  a  location  which 
he  knew  must  be  valuable ;  the  question  was  whether  he 
could  make  it  so  in  his  time.  He  bought  1GO  acres,  which 
included  good  water-power.  He  sold  his  team,  and  with 
what  money  he  had  he  went  into  company  with  a  man  and 
built  a  saw-mill.  There  was  a  plenty  of  hard  work,  but  he 


HENRIETTA.  285 

was  rested  and  could  do  it.  Soon  the  mill  was  running; 
they  sold  all  the  lumber  they  could  saw. 

Many  of  the  western  regions  settle  with  great  rapidity. 
But  this  depends  on  whether  speculators  get  hold  of  much 
land.  If  small  farmers. fill  the  country,  everything  prospers. 
It  was  so  here.  Mr.  Caird's  plan  was  to  build  a  town  ;  but 
another  man  got  the  start  of  him  and  built  a  grist-mill  higher 
up  the  stream.  Then  the  rival  town  began  to  grow.  Mr. 
Caird  was  forced  to  sell  lumber  to  help  build  it.  There  was 
no  other  way,  hard  though  it  was ;  more  than  this,  he  even 
went  thither  and  took  jobs  at  building  houses.  At  last 
he  got  money  enough  and  built  a  grist-mill  himself;  next, 
he  built  a  store  and  a  man  came  in  and  sold  goods.  There 
was  a  great  struggle  between  the  two  villages.  To  carry 
the  day,  he  borrowed  money  at  a  frightful  interest.  Then  he 
set  up  machine  shops.  To  induce  mechanics  to  come  in  he 
gave  them  lots  and  built  their  houses  at  cost.  He  came  near 
breaking  up  by  having  so  much  interest  to  pay.  It  took  him 
several  years  to  get  rid  of  this  load.  Then  hard  times  would 
come,  and  nothing  could  be  done.  Often  he  was  quite  dis- 
couraged ;  but  he  believed  he  would  succeed.  What  he 
most  depended  on  was  the  fertility  of  the  soil  and  the  enter- 
prise of  the  people.  At  last  a  man  with  capital  came  from 
Ohio  and  put  up  a  woolen  factory.  This  sent  his  town 
ahead  and  he  sold  his  lots  at  good  prices.  He  was  consid- 
ered one  of  the  finest  men  in  the  country.  He  managed  mat- 
ters so  that  there  was  no  liquor  sold  in  the  place.  Gamblers 
can  do  nothing  without  a  bottle. 

He  wrote  to  his  wife  every  week.  He  told  her  how  he  got 
alonij ;  he  was  full  of  courage,  and  believed  he  would  over- 
come all  difficulties.  Much  of  all  he  wrote  was  about  love. 
He  mailed  his  letters  from  the  upper  village.  He  had  a  sur- 
prise for  her.  At  last  he  sent  for  her,  and  she  and  the  two 
children  came  on. 

When  they  left  the  railroad  they  took  the  stage.  She  was 
expecting  all  the  while  to  go  to  the  upper  village.  He  was 
watching,  and  when  the  stage  came  he  bid  the  driver  stop 


286  LIFE   IN   THE   WEST. 

before  his  house.  It  was  a  handsome  building  among  ever- 
greens and  flowers.  The  branches  of  some  pear  trees  bent 
down  with  fruit.  They  went  up-stairs,  each  one  had  a  room 
nicely  furnished.  Then  dinner  was  ready.  Mr.  Caird  looked 
on  his  children,  as  they  sat  beside  him,  with  love  and  pride. 
He  noticed  how  beautiful  they  were,  how  well  they  behaved, 
and  how  fitly  they  spoke ;  and  he  saw  they  would  be  an  orna- 
ment to  the  new  country.  But  he  gazed  most  on  his  wife. 
So  fresh  and  so  healthful  did  she  look  that  his  mind  went 
back  to  the  days  when  he  first  saw  her. 

After  dinner  he  took  her  into  the  parlor  and  opened  the 
blinds.  What  a  nice  house !  how  large,  and  what  good  fur- 
niture !  And  what  a  pretty  village ! — stores,  mills,  churches, 
and  the  like  !  But  how  was  it  dear  ?  lie  had  been  living 
in  the  town  further  on.  How  came  his  house  to  be  here  ? 
To  tell  the  truth,  this  was  the  village  all  the  time.  What, 
the  place  where  his  letters  were  dated?  No.  That  was 
strange.  But  as  this  was  the  village,  what  was  the  name 
of  it  ?  It  had  a  very  pretty  name ;  he  had  given  it  himself; 
he  was  sure  she  must  like  it.  The  name  of  it  was  Henrietta. 
She  blushed  finely  and  looked  around.  The  young  gentle- 
man and  his  sister  were  among  the  flowers. 


THE  LITTLE  TURNPIKE  AND  THE  SEVEN 
GARDENS, 

SOMETIMES  the  mind  is  in  such  a  state  as  to  be  able  to 
see  the  whole  of  life  at  a  single  view.  From  the  door, 
our  daughter,  just  in  Avomanhood,  set  out  on  a  walk,  and  she 
trod  on  a  narrow  little  turnpike  which  runs  through  our 
county.  She  walked  briskly,  and  sang  in  the  morning  air. 
Beyond  she  saw  the  blue  landscape  of  distant  mountains. 
Green  grass  bordered  the  path,  and  also  the  brightest  flowers 
that  ever  bloomed.  In  one  hand  she  carried  a  book  and  in 
the  other  a  rose.  Although  she  seemed  to  walk  from  us,  she 
did  not  get  far  away,  because  the  little  turnpike  bent  around 
our  farm  to  avoid  wet  ground.  This  turnpike  was  so  nar- 
row two  could  not  walk  abreast. 

Beyond  her  path  were  low  green  fields  and  tall  trees,  and 
in  some  places  a  mist  arose  as  from  a  lake  or  a  wide  marsh, 
obscuring  many  things.  Still,  one  saw  the  sun  shining  on 
the  tops  of  fine  buildings,  and,  as  if  in  a  grove,  voices  were 
heard  singing.  Down  in  these  fields  our  daughter  saw,  as 
she  walked,  some  finely-dressed  girls,  attended  by  young 
men  in  new  and  good  clothes.  Thev  seemed  to  know  her, 
and  they  asked  her  to  come  down  and  join  their  company. 
She  looked  at  them,  but  neither  spoke  to  them  nor  did  as 
they  wished. 

As  she  walked  forward  everything  grew  more  pleasant, 
and  at  the  end  was  a  gate  which  opened  into  the  first  of  the 
Seven  Gardens,  whither  she  was  going.  This  gate  was 
almost  hidden  by  shrubbery  and  flowers,  and  was  painted 
of  the  color  of  a  bright  autumn  leaf,  and  just  beyond  it,  we 
1287) 


288  LIFE   IN  THE    WEST. 

saw  a  summer^liouse,  almost  good  enough  to  live  in,  and  it 
was  shaded  with  climbing  June  i-oses  and  cherry-trees,  red 
with  ripe  fruit. 

That  was  a  curious  little  turnpike,  for  sometimes  when  she 
thought  she  certainly  was  very  near  to  the  gate  it  seemed 
farther  off  than  ever  ;  and  then,  the  first  thing  she  knew,  it  ap- 
peared close  by  again,  just  as  though  this  turnpike  was  made 
of  india-rubber,  and  somebody  was  stretching  it  and  then 
letting  go.  All  this  time  the  young  people  in  the  low  green 
valley  beckoned  to  her,  and  once  she  thought  nothing  could 
prevent  them  from  being  happy.  But  then  the  sky  clouded, 
the  thunder  rolled,  the  notched  lightning  blazed  dreadfully, 
and  the  rain  poured  down  so  swiftly,  as  almost  to  take 
away  her  breath.  She  was  not  prepared  for  such  a  storm. 
She  looked  back  towards  us,  then  towards  the  gate  and  the 
summer-house.  Why  we  could  not  go  out  and  help  her  was 
the  strangest  part,  for,  though  all  of  us  saw  her,  we  could 
not  stir  to  help  her,  and  we  seemed  to  have  the  night-mare. 
Close  by,  and  on  her  left,  stood  a  fine  house,  w^ith  a  porch 
in  front.  The  young  people  insisted  that  she  should  come 
down  and  sit  in  the  porch  till  the  rain  was  over,  and  they 
would  have  some  nice  plays.  Whether  she  thought  she 
would  go  down  or  not  is  uncertain,  but  just  then,  a  high  win- 
dow in  the  gable  end,  was  opened,  and  what  seemed  a  dead 
body  was  thrown  to  the  ground,  when  she  started  to  run. 
As  she  raised  her  dress  to  keep  it  out  of  the  wet,  she  was 
startled  to  see  a  large  hand  reaching  out  to  grasp  it,  and 
glancing  backward  she  saw  a  tall  man,  dressed  in  a  long 
woolen  coat,  reaching  with  his  hand  up  to  the  little  turn- 
pike. His  hair  was  long  and  uncombed,  and  his  face  was 
bloated.  At  the  same  time  she  was  frightened  to  see  other 
men  along  the  path  hiding  in  the  bushes.  Some  beckoned 
to  her,  some  tried  to  smile,  some  almost  touched  her.  She 
went  faster  than  ever.  Nor  were  there  any  more  flowers 
along  her  way,  and  every  step  was  in  slippery  mud,  while 
there  were  sharp  stones,  which  tore  her  shoes  and  bruised 
her  feet. 


THE  LITTLE   TURNPIKE   AND   THE   SEVEN   GARDENS.      289 

Now,  over  on  her  right,  she  saw  another  turnpike,  and  it 
was  only  a  few  steps  distant,  and  it  came  from  another  part 
of  the  Settlement,  all  the  while  coming  nearer  to  one  she 
walked  in,  arid  in  it  came  a  young  man  who  was  a  son  of  a 
neighbor  of  ours,  and  he  had  a  stout  stick  in  his  hand.  He, 
too,  was  taking  a  little  walk  to  the  turnpike-gate,  and  the 
storm  had  overtaken  him,  but  he  trudged  along  without 
much  minding  it,  and  when  he  saw  our  daughter  he  spoke 
pleasantly  to  her,  and  he  told  her  if  the  villains  troubled  her 
again  he  would  break  their  backs  for  them.  After  that  she 
had  no  more  fear. 

Then  the  rain  stopped,  the  sun  shone  again,  and  in  a  little 
time  the  ground  was  dry,  when  the  birds  sang,  and  once 
more  there  were  flowers  on  either  side,  and  the  air  was  filled 
with  a  delightful  odor,  a  part  of  which  came  from  the  gar- 
den, for  they  were  getting  close  to  the  gate.  It  was  a  little 
strange  that  the  nearer  they  got  to  the  gate  the  more  this 
young  man  had  a  desire  to  get  over  and  walk  in  the  path 
with  our  daughter ;  but  she  forbade  it,  as  the  path  was  not 
wide  enough  for  two ;  so  they  both  walked  foi'wai'd  to  the 
gate  where  the  two  paths  met.  When  they  got  very  near 
the  mist  rose  from  the  fields  and  one  could  see  what  kind  of 
country  it  was,  and  what  was  going  on. 

Not  far  off  was  a  large,  fine  house,  and  out  of  the  front 
door  sprang  a  young  woman,  giving  scream  after  scream. 
One  side  of  her  face  seemed  cut  off  with  a  sword,  showing 
a  white  bone,  and  a  man  ran  after  her  carrying  a  rope  that 
had  a  slipping  noose  at  one  end.  A  little  further  on  was  a 
long,  low  house,  which  was  dirty  and  mean,  and  into  this 
the  young  woman  ran,  when  the  man  stopped  and  seemed 
pleased.  Old  clothes  were  in  the  windows ;  outside,  ragged 
children  dragged  kittens  by  their  necks  through  pools  of 
dirty  water,  and  from  the  inside  one  heard  the  high  voices 
of  men  and  women,  and  screams  and  curses  and  prayers.  A 
hearse  stood  by  the  door,  and  a  drunken  driver  continually 
called  for  some  one  in  the  house.  At  last  two  men,  bare- 
headed, brought  out  a  coffin,  when  the  driver  drove  off  as 
13 


290  LIFE   IN   THE   WEST. 

fast  as  he  could,  but  several  times  he  stopped  to  mend  his 
harness,  and  at  last  he  reached  a  grave-yard  in  a  grove  of 
dead  trees,  when  he  put  the  coffin  out  on  the  ground,  and 
only  an  old  man,  with  a  broken  spade  in  his  hand,  came, 
when  he  stood  a  long  time  with  one  foot  on  the  coffin.  All 
around  were  old  and  broken  coffins ;  by  the  sides  of  graves 
dug  long  before,  but  not  filled,  were  bones  and  pieces  of 
boards.  On  several  of  the  trees  women  hung  by  their  necks ; 
and  slowly  floating  down  the  sluggish  stream  were  the 
bodies  of  men  whose  clothes  floated  out  in  strings  and  rags. 

Even  close  to  the  gate  sights  were  seen  and  sounds  were 
heard.  In  front  of  a  house  that  had  green  blinds  and  lace 
curtains,  some  pieces  of  human  flesh  were  lying  in  a  flower- 
bed. From  within,  one  heard  sobs  and  groans  and  sharp 
screams,  and  the  creaking  and  slamming  of  heavy  iron  doors, 
and  the  drawing  up  of  chains,  and  the  falling  of  heavy 
weights.  From  a  back  door  a  man  with  only  one  boot  on, 
went  across  the  field  carrying  a  little  coffin  under  his  -arm, 
while  he  held  out,  as  if  he  wanted  everybody  to  see  it,  a 
printed  parchment. 

At  the  time  our  daughter  reached  the  gate,  the  young  man 
reached  it  also,  and  then  they  took  hold  of  hands,  when  the 
gate  opened,  and,  bowing  their  heads  a  little,  they  went  in. 
There  they  found  many  young  folks,  the  girls  having  flowers 
in  their  hair  and  the  young  men  nosegays  in  their  button- 
holes, and  when  the  gate  was  shut,  there  were  sounds  of 
laughter  and  merry-making,  and  the  clinking  of  dishes  as  if 
they  were  eating  dinner.  After  that  they  had  some  pretty 
good  singing. 

The  next  thing  AVC  could  see  was  our  daughter  Avalking 
with  the  young  man  through  the  first  garden.  There  were 
no  fruits  yet  ripe  except  cherries  and  strawberries,  but  the 
trees  were  in  full  bloom,  and  there  was  the  most  beautiful 
shrubbery,  with  leaves  which  were  green  on  the  upper  side, 
while  the  under  sides  were  of  mottled  gold  and  purple,  while 
they  had  silvered  edges.  There  were  other  wonderful  things 
which  they  saw ;  and  we  were  seeing  them,  though  not 


THE   LITTLE   TUKNPIKE   AND   THE   SEVEN   GARDENS.      291 

exactly  in  the  way  they  saw  them.  It  was  as  if  we  were 
looking  backward  through  an  arch  that  was  partly  in  ruins, 
and  covered  with  vines  which  had  leaves  of  the  color  of  a 
red  sunset. 

There  was  one  thing  which  did  not  seem  plain;  this  was, 
they  appeared  to  have  a  house  to  live  in ;  but  we  could  not 
see  into  it  because  there  was  a  green  curtain  between,  which 
hung  down  from  the  sky,  and  each  corner  was  fastened  to  a 
star;  but  we  could  see  them  walking  through  the  garden, 
swinging  their  hands  as  they  were  clasped  together.  You 
may  be  sure  we  spent  a  good  deal  of  our  time  looking  at 
them.  Another  thing  was  singular,  for  although  what  we 
were  seeing  appeared  as  if  it  were  in  one  forenoon,  still,  by 
the  changes  in  the  leaves,  as  in  the  ripening  of  fruits,  periods 
of  time,  such  as  days,  months,  and  larger  circles  went  by. 

After  awhile  the  walls  of  the  garden  turned  round  and 
closed  before  them,  and  in  their  path  was  another  gate,  over 
which  was  written  a  serious  Scripture  passage,  and  when  t 
they  read  it  our  daughter  shed  a  few  tears.  Then  they  went 
through  the  gate;  but  instead  of  going  on,  our  daughter 
entered  a  little  summer  house,  as  if  to  rest  while  her  compan- 
ion sat  on  the  outside  and  waited.  The  roof  and  walls  were 
covered  with  creeping  cypress,  which  made  a  deep  shade, 
and  a  large  weeping  willow  enclosed  it,  so  that  its  branches 
almost  touched  the  ground.  A  little  back  of  the  summer- 
house  was  a  high  wall  made  of  black  volcanic  rock,  such  as 
is  quarried  out  of  enchanted  mountains,  and  at  the  foot  of 
the  wall  was  a  grave  partly  dug,  and  the  shovels  and  picks 
were  lying  around  as  if  the  workmen  had  just  gone  to  dinner. 

Our  daughter's  partner  having  waited  some  time,  went  on 
ahead  a  little,  and  he  was  picking  apricots  and  summer-pears, 
when  she  came  towards  him  smiling  sweetly;  but  she  was 
grown  pale,  and  she  held  by  her  hand  a  little  boy,  and  when 
they  came  up  the  three  walked  abreast  and  the  little  boy  was 
between  them.  This  was  a  great  mystery  to  us,  and  the 
more  we  tried  to  understand  it  the  less  we  knew,  and  we 
stopped  thinking  about  it. 


292  LIFE   IN   THE   WEST. 

"We  noticed  that  the  flowers  began  to  lose  their  beauty, 
and  to  drop  their  leaves  on  the  moist  ground.  Some  of  these 
leaves  our  daughter  saved  in  her  book.  Now  instead  of 
there  being  only  flowers,  several  kinds  of  fruit  began  to 
ripen,  and  though  a  good  deal  of  it  was  wormy  and  rotten 
inside,  there  was  enough  which  was  sweet  and  juicy.  But 
the  most  of  the  fruit  was  very  small  and  green,  and  it  seemed 
as  if  it  would  take  a  long  time  for  it  to  get  ripe. 

Now  it  seemed  to  us  that  sometimes  they  got  tired  of  the 
garden  and  saw  nothing  lovely  in  it,  and  when  they  were 
this  way,  the  sky  would  be  covered  with  a  pall  of  blackness, 
and  claps  of  thunder-broke  and  leaped  from  one  part  of  the 
sky  to  another.  Often,  at  such  times,  our  daughter  opened 
her  book  and  read  passages  which  did  them  both  good,  for 
the  effect  was  such  that  the  sun  shone  out,  and  the  thunder 
rumbled  among  clouds  along  the  horizon.  This  was  another 
mystery.  One  time  our  daughter  and  her  partner  got  out 
of  the  path  leading  through  this  garden,  and  coming  to  the 
walls  they  looked  over  and  saw  things  not  good  for  weak 
eyes. 

For  the  country  was  cheerless,  and  in  no  way  seemed  fitted 
to  supply  food  to  whomsoever  might  try  to  live  there.  Near 
by  was  an  asylum  for  people  who  had  lost  their  senses.  They 
were  chained  inside  to  pillars  and  to  rings  in  the  walls,  and 
many  were  seen  through  the  iron  grates  with  woe-begone 
looks,  long  hair,  and  with  imperfect  teeth.  Some  with  scarcely 
any  skin  on  their  lips  gnawed  at  the  bars,  by  which  means 
they  broke  their  teeth,  others  gazt-d  upward  as  if  at  the  moon, 
nor  did  they  wink  with  their  round  white  eyes  ;  while  others 
silently  sat  and  kneeled  with  their  chins  bending  on  their 
breasts.  In  some  parts  of  the  building  were  heard  sobs  and 
groans ;  in  others  shrieks,  and  jumpings,  and  the  lashing  of 
whips. 

At  a  little  distance,  and  in  what  seemed  a  decayed  garden, 
stood  a  gallows  and  a  skeleton  hanging  on  it.  Some  having 
snapped  their  chains  were  slipping  over  the  walls  like  squir- 
rels, or  were  running  across  the  lots  with  a  few  clothes  on, 


THE   LITTLE  TURNPIKE   AND   THE   SEVEN   GARDENS.      293 

but  their  keepers  always  overtook  them.  In  a  low  marshy 
valley  some  men  were  digging  shallow  graves,  and  when  the 
coffins  came  they  stood  on  them  to  make  them  sink  down 
through  the  mud  and  water. 

Beyond  the  asylum  was  a  penitentiary,  and  long  lines  of 
convicts,  guarded  by  soldiers  with  shining  muskets,  were 
driven  to  labor  in  stone  quarries.  And  still  another  building 
was  near.  This  was  a  hospital  in  which  the  grievously  sick 
were  cared  for  and  fed  on  gruel ;  and  it  was  doubtful  to  the 
most  humane  whether  life  or  death  to  such  was  most  desir- 
able, for  they  had  but  taste  and  sense  and  smell,  and  some 
parts  of  their  features  did  not  remain. 

After  seeing  these  things,  our  daughter  and  her  partner 
drew  back  into  the  path  of  the  garden,  and  without  speaking 
they  went  on,  still  being  in  our  view,  seemingly  happy  that 
they  were  subject  to  none  of  the  regulations  of  the  public 
buildings.  Soon  after  they  came  to  the  gate  by  the  fourth 
garden.  Here  a  little  girl  came  to  play  with  the  boy,  and 
they  had  pleasant  society  with  each  other. 

It  is  enougli  to  say  that  they  went  on  till  they  came  to  the 
seventh  garden,  where  there  were  six  boys  and  girls.  By 
this  time  the  fruit  on  the  ti'ees  was  quite  ripe,  and  there  were 
vegetables  and  other  products  in  great  abundance.  There 
were  also  all  kinds  of  nuts,  not  excepting  English  walnuts 
and  soft-shelled  almonds. 

Now  as  all  things  come  to  an  end,  and  then  take  another 
shape,  our  daughter  and  her  partner  got  tired  with  such  a 
long  walk,  and  they  were  changed  so  as  to  be  very  serious, 
and  they  had  each  other's  ways  and  looks,  when  they  came 
to  a  summer-house,  shadier  than  any  other,  and  situated  in  a 
little  valley  where  water  was  running,  but  they  only  heard  it 
sweeping  by,  for  it  was  so  obscure  ^hey  could  not  see  whether 
it  was  deep  and  broad,  or  only  shallow.  At  this  place  her 
partner  went  in  first  and  lay  down,  and  as  he  did  not  come 
out,  she  went  in  and  lay  down  also.  The  boys  and  girls 
stayed  around  some  time,  and  called  to  them,  but  as  there 
was  no  answer,  they  were  taken  out  of  the  gardens  by  some 


294  LIFE  IN  THE  WEST. 

friends   with    the    promise    that    they   might    come    back 
again. 

Well,  when  our  daughter  and  her  partner  awoke,  they 
looked  around  for  the  boys  and  girls,  but  they  did  not  see 
them,  and  the  place  appeared  strange.  It  seemed  as  if  it  was 
about  day-light,  but  when  they  tried  to  get  out  of  the  sum- 
mer house,  they  found  a  black  stone  wall,  made  of  the  rock 
of  the  enchanted  mountain,  across  the  entrance,  and  beyond 
it  they  heard  the  water  running,  but  it  was  behind  them,  and 
not  before  them,  as  it  was  when  they  went  to  sleep.  When 
it  grew  a  little  lighter,  they  saw  a  few  stone  steps,  and  as 
this  was  the  only  way,  they  took  hold  of  hands  and  went 
up,  when  they  entered  into  a  garden  which  had  a  striking 
resemblance  to  the  one  they  first  entered.  Wondering  what 
it  all  signified,  they  went  forward  slowly,  and  looked  around 
and  soon  it  grew  bright  in  the  east.  All  at  once,  they  perceived 
they  had  on  different  clothes,  and  then  they  saw  persons 
coining  to  meet  them.  It  will  take  a  long  time  to  tell  the 
rest  of  this  story,  besides,  it  will  be  hard  to  understand, 
therefore  we  had  better  stop  before  we  begin. 


FARMING  AND  LAW.    . 

MR.  HIBBARD  was  a  young  lawyer  in  a  county  town  in 
one  of  the  New  England  States.  He  was  quite  prom- 
ising, he  could  make  a  flowery  little  speech,  and  folks  ex- 
pected he  would  make  a  great  man.  Such  wonderful  things 
did  he  expect  to  do,  that  he  quit  keeping  company  with  a 
young  lady  he  had  agreed  to  marry,  and  began  to  look 
around  for  a  rich,  handsome  wife.  He  would  have  a  woman 
who  would  honor  the  high  station  he,  expected  to  occupy. 
While  he  was  making  up  his  mind  what  girl  he  would  have, 
for  he  presumed  he  could  have  any,  considerable  talk  was 
going  on  about  the  way  he  had  treated  Lucy,  and  he  could 
see  he  had  made  a  mistake.  He  thought  he  would  brave  it 
through,  but  this  was  difficult.  There  were  lawyers,  young 
and  old,  seeking  business ;  they  were  glad  of  a  chance  to  say 
something  against  him. 

Lucy  had  waited  a  long  time ;  she  was  proud  of  his  prog- 
ress, and  when  he  was  admitted  to  the  bar  she  felt  equally 
honored.  In  a  short  time  she  saw  his  head  was  turned ;  then 
he  ceased  to  visit  her ;  at  last,  she  felt  she  had  lost  him.  She 
was  now  twenty-three;  the  offers  she  had  rejected  could  not 
come  again ;  she  had  little  hope,  and  her  heart  was  tortured 
Avith  anguish  and  indignation.  So  much  was  she  affected 
that  her  cheeks  became  bloodless,  and  her  friends  feared  she 
would  go  into  a  decline. 

In  these  communities  a  sense  of  strict  justice  pervades  the 

people ;  they  frown  upon  wrong  doing ;    and  Mr.  Hibbard 

found  himself  speedily  obliged  to  change  his  course.    He  was 

worth  little  and  people  would  not  employ  him.    After  a  long 

(295) 


296  LIFE   IN  THE  WEST. 

struggle  with  himself,  he  went  back  to  Lucy.  At  first  she 
would  not  see  him ;  he  persevered,  and  they  had  an  interview. 
She  spoke  her  mind  freely,  and  strongly  hinted  that  the  few 
hundred  dollars  she  had  was  an  object.  This  he  was  forced 
to  deny,  not  to  resent;  he  pleaded  for  pardon;  she  finally 
granted  it,  and  they  were  married. 

Upon  this,  the  public  seemed  to  heave  a  sigh  of  relief. 
Justice  had  been  done.  People  were  willing  to  overlook,  and 
some  business  came  to  the  young  lawyer.  This  event  gave 
his  mind  a  sober  and  practical  cast.  He  would  turn  to  his 
studies  anew ;  he  would  excel.  With  a  part  of  Lucy's  money 
he  bought  more  books.  As  he  reflected,  he  saw  men  of  ex- 
perience and  ability  greatly  in  his  way ;  for  years  every  case 
of  importance  would  be  intrusted  to  them.  To  excel,  to 
equal  them,  would  require  much  study  and  a  well-trained 
mind.  The  reading  necessary  to  admit  to  the  bar  is  general ; 
it  is  not  diificult ;  ma^y  of  very  slender  acquirements,  both 
in  law  and  in  general  knowledge,  become  lawyers.  Mr.  Hib- 
bard  began  to  see  that  a  wide  understanding,  not  only  of  the 
law,  but  of  whatever  relates  to  society  and  civilization  is  in- 
dispensable. How  to  obtain  this  was  not  clear;  study  was 
important ;  but  he  thought  there  was  something  more.  On 
inquiry,  the  answers  were  not  satisfactory;  he  believed  he 
had  fair  ability,  but  he  greatly  doubted  whether  he  was  the 
genius  he  had  supposed  himself  to  be.  In  coming  in  contact 
with  eminent  lawyers,  he  would  ask  himself  what  it  is  that 
gives  broad,  clear  views  and  a  power  over  the  court  and  the 
jury.  On  several  occasions,  wrhen  he  had  cases  of  some  little 
consequence,  he  found  himself  unable  to  reply  to  the  argu- 
ments of  the  opposing  counsel,  and  he  was  beaten.  Then  he 
became  discouraged;  he  doubted  whether  he  would  make 
anything  but  a  third-rate  lawyer.  By  using  a  little  art  he 
found  out  that  his  abilities  were  not  highly  esteemed,  and 
that  people  wrere  in  the  habit  of  speaking  of  him  as  not  being 
much.  When  going  into  public  he  attracted  little  attention ; 
and  when  the  judge  and  leading  lawyers  were  conversing  on 
general  subjects,  if  he  attempted  to  join  in,  no  attention  was 


FARMING   AXD   LAW.  297 

paid  to  him.  When  he  made  mistakes  he  saw  a  smile  go 
round ;  if  older  men  made  similar  mistakes,  it  was  a  different 
kind  of  smile.  These  things  were  highly  mortifying;  he  set 
himself  to  the  task  to  discover  the  cause;  and  he  concluded 
that  he  had  presumed  to  act  as  if  he  was  a  good  lawyer,  when 
he  was  not.  He  could  see  other  young  lawyers  of  poor  ac- 
quirements treated  in  the  same  way.  He  felt  sorry  for  them  ; 
it  struck  him  that  he  was  like  them.  He  had  confidence  in 
an  old  lawyer;  he  told  him  that  much  was  expected  of  the 
young ;  if,  when  grown  older,  the  expectation  Avas  not  ful- 
filled, there  would  be  a  reaction. 

Many  young  lawyers  meeting  similar  treatment  become 
discouraged  and  they  abandon  the  profession ;  others  sink 
into  clerks  and  copyists;  others  are  contented  with  what 
little  business  may  come ;  they  lose  their  ambition  ;  when  it 
is  a  busy  time  they  can  pick  up  something.  Mr.  Hibbard 
did  not  know  what  to  do ;  he  wished  he  was  a  merchant,  a 
good  mechanic,  anything  but  a  lawyer. 

He  kept  a  horse,  for  sometimes  he  had  cases  in  the  coun- 
try. One  day  a  man  wanted  to  buy  his  horse ;  he  wanted  to 
sell  him,  for  he  needed  money;  but  the  man  had  no  money; 
then  he  would  not  sell.  Ah,  but  he  would  give  him  a  deed 
for  one  hundred  and  sixty  acres  of  land  out  West.  Mr.  Hib- 
bard Avas  struck  with  the  proposition.  In  a  measure,  his  af- 
fairs were  desperate ;  his  family  was  growing ;  Lucy  had  to 
pinch  along  ;  may  be  he  would  go  West,  though  he  did  not 
want  land ;  no  matter,  they  traded. 

Western  land  then  was  sold  in  this  manner  from  one  to 
another  ;  perhaps  neither  knew  anything  about  it.  The  prop- 
erty was  in  the  deed,  not  in  the  land ;  it  was  like  an  uncur- 
rent  bank  bill,  selling  for  ten  or  twenty  cents  on  a  dollar, 
good  to  trade  with.  Some  day  the  bank  might  come  up. 
Mr.  Hibbard  felt  interest  enough  to  inquire  where  the  land 
lay,  and  whether  anybody  lived  near  it ;  he  learned  that  sev- 
eral families  from  an  adjoining  township  had  moved  thither 
and  were  beginning  to  do  well.  He  went  to  see  their  rela- 
tions and  found  a  man  who  had  been  out,  who  was  pleased, 
13* 


298  LIFE  IN  THE  WEST. 

and  was  going  to  move.  He  knew  Mr.  Hibbard's  land ;  it 
would  make  a  fine  farm ;  there  Avere  neighbors  near ;  the 
township  was  settling  fast. 

Mr.  Hibbard  reflected  a  long  time ;  he  talked  with  Lucy ; 
she  was  willing  to  go,  indeed  thought  it  best;  she  could  not 
keep  up  with  society.  At  last  he  made  up  his  mind  to  go ; 
then  his  mind  was  all  alive  with  the  prospect ;  but  he  would 
do  this :  he  would  clear  the  land,  improve  it,  make  a  good 
farm,  and  have  things  comfortable ;  this  would  be  sure ;  he 
would  not  sell  it ;  there  should  be  his  home.  Meanwhile,  he 
would  study,  he  would  go  to  the  foundation,  he  would  see 
what  law  is.  True,  it  was  twenty  miles  to  the  county  seat ; 
that  was  nothing;  there  might  be  first-rate  lawyers  there 
too;  that  was  nothing;  he  would  take  time  to  make  himself 
as  good  as  they.  If  he  succeeded,  good ;  if  not,  he  would 
have  a  farm.  He  believed  himself  capable  of  carrying  out 
both  plans ;  he  knew  something  about  work,  and  thought  he 
could  make  himself  a  good  fanner. 

They  got  their  little  property  together.  Lucy  had  a  fine 
outfit.  He  bought  a  yoke  of  oxen  and  a  wagon.  In  those 
clays  the  journey  was  as  long  and  as  hard  as  it  is  now  from 
the  Missouri  river  to  California.  The  country  was  new  for 
hundreds  of  miles,  the  roads  bad,  and  it  took  from  six  to 
twelve  weeks  to  get  through.  They  started  in  September ; 
they  had  two  children  and  nearly  a  hundred  dollars  in  money; 
when  the  roads  were  good,  Lucy  rode ;  when  bad,  she  got 
out,  carrying  the  baby,  while  the  other  fellow  rode  and 
clutched  with  his  little  hands  on  the  side  of  the  wagon  box, 
peeping  out  to  see  how  things  were  going ;  at  other  times  he 
would  lie  down  in  a  soft  place  and  go  to  sleep.  There  were 
several  other  families  going  with  them ;  they  went  about 
fifteen  miles  a  day,  sometimes  much  less ;  they  had  to  go  a 
long  way  around  over  mountains,  for  they  could  not  get 
through  certain  swamps.  For  six  wreeks  the  weather  was 
fine ;  after  that,  it  rained  frequently,  and  there  was  deep 
mud,  except  where  there  were  rocks.  In  some  places  they 
had  to  go  over  ledges  of  rocks;  the  wagon  was  taken  to 


FARMING  AND    LAW.  299 

pieces  and  earned  up;  the  cattle  made  out  to  get  along; 
then,  in  mud  holes,  all  hands  had  to  lift  and  pry  and  cry  to 
the  oxen.  Next  the  nights  became  frosty  and  thei*e  was 
some  snow.  Their  load  was  found  so  heavy  that  they  had 
to  sell  some  of  their  things ;  even  then,  they  were  afraid  the 
oxen  would  given  out. 

At  last,  in  the  tenth  week,  they  came  near  their  destina- 
tion. It  was  a  raw,  chilly  day ;  but  at  times  the  sun  shone 
brightly.  They  thought  they  would  get  through  by  noon, 
but  there  was  a  wide  stream  and  a  swamp  to  cross,  and  there 
were  several  hills.  One  of  the  oxen  got  down,  and  it  was  as 
much  as  Mr.  Hibbard  and  his  wife  could  do  to  make  him  get 
up.  The  farms  were  about  a  mile  apart.  Then  they  came 
to  a  long  hill ;  there  were  so  many  stones  in  the  road  that 
Mr.  Hibbard  had  to  cut  a  road  farther  round,  and  they  made 
out  to  get  up.  While  the  oxen  were  resting,  Mr.  Hibbard  paid 
close  attention,  for  by  the  description  he  knew  that  this  was 
his  land.  Driving  on  thirty  or  forty  rods,  he  stepped  on  a 
gentle  knoll;  there  was  heavy  timber  in  every  direction. 
When  Lucy  came  along,  nearly  tired  out,  he  told  her  that 
this  was  their  land ;  there  was  to  be  their  home.  But  this 
was  no  place  for  them  to  stop ;  there  was  a  clearing  ahead, 
and  he  would  drive  to  the  next  house.  Lucy  sat  on  a  log 
to  rest,  holding  her  baby  ;  she  looked  all  around ;  the  under- 
brush was  thick ;  tall  maples,  beeches,  hickories  and  the  like 
rose  high  in  the  air.  She  thought  the  prospect  gloomy 
enough,  for  the  trees  must  be  cut  down  and  a  house  built 
before  they  could  begin  to  live.  She  did  not  know  how  it 
would  be.  Still,  she  knew  her  husband  was  ambitious,  and 
wanted  to  get  along.  While  she  sat  there  several  deer 
walked  across  the  road. 

Then  she  went  on  after  the  wagon ;  it  stopped  before  she 
overtook  it.  The  people  of  the  house  were  out,  and  the 
woman  came  forward  and  took  her  baby.  Bless  the  darling 
little  soul ;  how  pretty  it  was.  They  all  went  in ;  the  people 
acted  in*  the  kindest  manner,  and  were  happy  they  had  come. 
Lucy  apologised  for  her  looks ;  her  feet  were  sopping  wet, 


300  LIFE   IN    THE   WEST. 

and  she  was  muddy  up  to  her  apron.  That  was  nothing, 
and  they  laughed.  The  women  got  into  a  long  rapid  talk, 
and  there  were  inquiries  about  mutual  acquaintances.  The 
news  that  another  man  had  moved  on  flew  quickly,  and  by 
dark  many  people  came  to  see  them.  From  no  one  was  any- 
thing but  encouragement  and  praises  of  the  country ;  of 
course  they  would  do  well. 

The  next  day  was  devoted  to  rest ;  but  on  the  day  after 
a  crowd  of  men  and  boys,  with  cattle,  oxen  and  chains,  came 
early.  They  were  going  to  put  up  a  house  for  Mr.  Hibbard. 
He  selected  the  place  where  he  would  build,  and  they  went 
to  work.  The  trees  fell  rapidly.  The  boys  trimmed  and 
piled  brush,  the  men  chopped  the  logs  of  right  length,  then 
the  oxen  were  hitched  to  them  and  then  they  began  to  roll. 
To  make  a  decent  log  house,  sixty  trees  are  required,  this 
will  clear  half  an  acre  of  land.  When  the  body  was  raised 
they  split  puncheons  from  large  trees,  smoothed  them  the 
best  they  could  and  laid  a  floor.  The  way  to  have  a  fire  was 
to  build  it  against  the  logs  at  one  end,  they  Avould  burn  out, 
then  Mr.  Hibbard  could  build  a  chimney  with  stone  or  of 
sticks  and  clay.  As  for  a  door,  they  could  hang  up  a  bed- 
quilt.  Meanwhile  some  had  been  riving  long  shingles  out  of 
oak,  these  were  for  the  roof,  they  were  laid  across  poles, 
weight-poles  on  top  kept  them  in  their  place,  and  the  house 
was  done.  The  same  day  they  moved  into  it,  a  fire  was 
built,  and  they  cooked  and  ate  their  first  meal  in  their  own 
house  in  the  West. 

These  difficulties  look  great ;  but  they  do  not  last  long. 
In  these  days  one  can  travel  to  this  country  in  twenty-four 
hours ;  in  four  days  he  can  reach  regions  as  savage  and  new. 
However  rough  a  home  at  first  may  be,  constant  improve- 
ment will  soon  make  it  pleasant.  A  door  was  made  first,  for 
there  were  wolves  about.  They  had  a  spring  not  far  off; 
she  told  about  seeing  six  or  seven  dogs  running  fast  when 
she  went  for  water.  Then  they  had  a  chimney ;  next  a  sta- 
ble for  the  oxen.  Their  greatest  want  was  bread.  "  Almost 
every  day  he  could  get  a  deer.  Scarcely  any  body  as  yet 


FARMING  AND    LAW.  301 

had  grain  to  sell,  and  there  was  no  mill  nearer  than  eighteen 
miles,  where  was  an  older  settlement.  Mr.  Hibbard  went 
thither;  most  of  the  way  was  woods.  He  had  but  little 
money  left ;  corn  was  high,  but  their  family  was  small ;  the 
cattle  eat  most. 

During  the  winter  Mr.  Hibbard  cleared  land.  When  plant- 
ing time  came  he  had  six  acres  fenced  ;  five  he  put  in  corn  ; 
there  were  so  many  roots  he  had  to  do  all  the  work  with  a 
hoe ;  an  acre  he  put  in  spring  wheat,  scratching  the  soil  with 
a  thorn-bush.  They  had  a  garden  and  every  thing  grew 
finely.  They  bought  a  cow;  she  ran  in  the  woods,  but  came 
home  at  night,  and  they  had  milk  and  butter ;  sometimes  it 
tasted  of  leeks.  They  got  pigs,  which  lived  in  the  woods. 
Xew  settlers  want  many  hogs  to  eat  up  the  rattle-snakes. 
The  result  of  these  labors  was  corn  and  wheat  enough  to  last 
through  the  year.  Then  among  the  corn  grass  seed  was 
sown  ;  the  next  year  he  cut  hay ;  then  more  land  was  cleared. 
On  this  fresh  soil  every  thing  grew  rapidly. 

Like  all  other  settlers,  Mr.  Hibbard  had  brought  out  a  little 
sack  full  of  apple-seeds.  These  were  planted  early  in  the 
spring,  so  that  the  frost  could  act  on  them,  and  they  grew. 
He  gave  the  young  trees  good  care ;  they  were  to  be  his 
orchard.  Peach  trees  he  bought  in  the  old  settlement.  All 
this  work  Mr.  Hibbard  did  himself;  sometimes  Lucy  could 
help.  Many  hours,  with  her  hand-spike,  she  rolled  logs. 
She  need  not  lift  hard ;  he  would  raise  one  end,  she  put  her 
hand-spike  under  it,  he  would  go  to  the  other  end  and  roll 
it  up.  But  she  could  lift  too  when  he  got  more  than  he  could 
manage.  Besides,  she  piled  brush  and  picked  up  chips  and 
chunks  to  make  the  ground  clean.  When  he  tapped  trees 
she  would  carry  the  sap  and  boil  it  into  sugar.  That  boy  of 
hers  became  very  fond  of  warm  sugar.  Once  he  came  near 
being  scalded  to  death ;  she  was  just  in  time  to  jerk  him  out. 

One  might  think  that  these  labors  wore  them  out  and  dis- 
couraged them ;  such  was  not  the  case.  Providence  did  not 
intend  when  fixing  the  condition  of  making  a  home  in  the 
wilderness,  that  the  labor  required  shall  be  more  than  the 


302  LIFE  IX  THE  WEST. 

body  can  endure,  or  that  the  mind  shall  not  be  hopeful.  No 
people  are  more  healthful,  or  more  cheerfully  look  forward  to 
the  future.  Afterwards  the  settler  will  look  back  on  these 
as  their  happiest  days.  When  Lucy  and  the  neighboring 
women  were  able  to  dress  in  silk  and  to  go  a  visiting  in  nice 
buggies,  they  would  say  they  never  enjoyed  so  much  as  they 
did  when  the  country  was  new. 

There  are  rainy  and  bad  days  for  the  farmer.  Long 
winter  nights  give  much  time.  Mr.  Hibbard  improved 
every  spare  hour  in  becoming  more  familiar  with  the  law. 
He  had  prepared  himself  by  buying  fundamental  works  on 
common  law  and  the  law  of  nations,  and  those  in  particular 
which  related  to  Roman  law,  including  the  compilations  of 
Justinian.  He  laid  out  for  himself  the  particular  stiidy  to 
learn  how  laws  originate,  to  trace  common  law  along  with 
the  progress  of  society,  the  development  of  learning,  of  in- 
ventions, of  commerce  and  manufactures.  As  he  pursued 
his  studies,  he  saw  how  common  law  is  the  outgrowth  of 
society ;  that  it  expresses  this  growth  or  change  at  every 
step ;  that  habit  becomes  custom,  customs  form  rules,  and 
rules  become  common  law ;  then,  that  it  is  the  province  of 
the  legislature  to  confirm,  add  to,  and  modify  this  common 
law,  but  never  to  supersede  it.  Gradually  his  mind  opened 
to  the  truth  that  in  all  new  countries  a  common  law  will 
naturally  be  created  which  will  differ  from  any  other  to  the 
extent  that  the  circumstances  differ;  that  is,  regarding  fer- 
tility or  barreness,  the  scarcity  or  plentifulness  of  timber, 
abundance  of  food  in  common,  tracts  of  marshy  land,  or 
regions  deprived  of  water  and  other  peculiarities.  This  led 
him  to  consider  how  this  new  common  law  is  to  be  confirmed. 
Of  course  this  would  be  by  judicial  decisions ;  the  judge 
alone  would  be  competent  to  declare  what  these  new  cus- 
toms, rules  and  laws,  growing  out  of  new  circumstances, 
are.  On  further  reflection  he  saw  that  no  man,  however 
learned  he  may  be  in  the  laws  of  old  settled  countries,  or 
however  great  his  other  qualifications  might  be,  would  be 
fit  to  declare  the  common  law  of  the  new  country  and  to 


FARMING  AND   LAW.  303 

give  decisions  which  courts  and  juries  would  reverence  unless 
he  was  well  acquainted  with  all  the  customs  of  the  new 
country.  To  Mr.  Hibbard  this  seemed  a  point  of  much  im- 
portance, and  the  more  he  reflected  on  it  the  more  clearly 
did  he  see  a  way  open  for  a  lawyer  occupying  the  position 
he  himself  occupied.  When  the  subject  was  presented  to 
him  in  its  full  force,  he  could  not  help  seeing  that  Providence 
had  been  preparing  him  by  trials  for  some  important  work. 

Thinking  in  this  way,  and  still  pursuing  his  studies,  still 
never  neglecting  farm-work,  time  went  by.  Of  course  liti- 
gation arose,  as  it  always  will,  bxit  in  well-ordered  commu- 
nities suits  are  brought  more  through  misunderstanding  than 
ill-will,  and  here  the  court  and  jury  have  simply  the  duty 
dispassionately  to  decide  on  the  misunderstanding.  Then 
the  defeated  party  will  see  that  his  error  arose  from  a  want 
of  clear  statement  on  his  part,  and  he  will  be  thankful  for 
the  experience. 

Mr.  Hibbard  took  no  pains  to  get  business ;  he  could  well 
afford  not  to  be  troubled  with  undignified  quarrels.  Still, 
he  would  serve  when  requested.  After  a  while  he  had  a 
case  of  some  importance,  and  it  was  one  of  that  class  which 
grows  out  of  the  new  conditions  of  the  country  and  in  refer- 
ence to  which  no  laws  were  exactly  applicable.  He  was 
scarcely  known.  He  had  taken  no  pains  to  get  business  or 
put  himself  forward.  He  was  known  to  be  a  prosperous 
farmer.  Of  course  he  had  influence,  and  could  command 
votes.  This  gave  him  a  consequence  which  surprised  him.  A 
reputation  had  run  on  ahead.  He  had  studied  his  case  in  the 
light  of  analogous  ones,  with  diligence,  and  he  founded  his 
arguments  on  natural  justice  and  on  what  is  required  by 
good  faith.  For  every  rebutting  argument  and  authority  he 
was  prepared  with  stronger  ones.  His  speech  was  well 
arranged  and  convincing.  It  was  the  result  of  study,  and 
he  gained  the  suit. 

From  this  he  acquired  a  solid  reputation.  He  was  urged 
to  remove  to  the  county  seat.  He  said  that  in  coming  west 
he  had  proposed  making  a  comfortable  home ;  it  should  be 


304  LIFE   IN  THE    WEST. 

secure  from  all  accidents ;  if  business  offered  he  would  take 
it;  if  not,  he  could  live  well  without  it.  To  Lucy  he  said 
more.  At  the  county  seat  he  would  be  interrupted  with 
trifles;  much  of  what  he  could  earn  would  be  expended  in 
being  more  fashionable ;  his  aim  was  high ;  he  could  not 
afford  to  be  diverted  from  it. 

In  those  days  money  was  hard  to  get ;  still,  by  his  profes- 
sion, he  got  several  hundred  dollars  a  year.  This  enabled 
him  to  get  more  land  cleared ;  to  stock  his  farm  and  make 
improvements.  His  orchard  did  well,  and  was  grafted. 
They  had  wool  and  flax ;  Lucy  spun  and  wove.  The  roads 
were  made  good.  Scarcely  a  mile  distant  was  a  nice  church, 
and  there  were  stores,  and  mechanics,  and  schools  were  good. 
At  an  early  day  an  academy  was  established  to  which  young 
folks  were  sent  from  abroad.  The  reason  why  things  pros- 
pered was  because  the  people  were  intelligent  and  industrious, 
and  the  soil  was  good. 

In  a  few  years  Mr.  Hibbard  had  the  reputation  of  being 
the  safest  and  soundest  lawyer  in  the  country,  and  he  was 
employed  on  every  important  case.  By  this  time  he  under- 
stood what  is  meant  by  large  powers,  comprehensive  views, 
and  influence  with  the  court  and  jury.  Many  think  these 
must  be  a  natural  gift — such  as  genius  or  inspiration.  It  is 
industry  directed  by  practical  knowledge  and  good  sense. 
Of  course  there  are  accomplishments,  a  flowing  style,  easy 
delivery,  ready  wit.  But  these  are  inborn  only  in  part. 
True,  the  men  must  be  given.  I  am  talking  about  men. 

Then  he  built  a  good  house.  It  was  on  the  New  England 
plan,  and  of  the  largest  size.  It  was  finished  throughout,  and 
nice  furniture  was  bought.  Lucy  had  good  carpets  of  her 
own  making  to  lay  down  in  every  room.  She  had  feather- 
beds  and  all  kinds  of  bedding  made  in  the  family.  There 
were  four  girls.  At  meeting  they  sat  in  a  row.  There  were 
three  bovs.  They  became  good  scholars  and  had  farms.  One 
became  a  minister,  another  a  lawyer,  and  the  youngest  one 
had  the  old  farm. 

Mr.  Hibbard  became  County  Judge,  and  presided  several 
years.  IsTo  one  was  better  fitted  than  he.  When  Court 


FARMING   AND    LAW.  305 

adjourned  he  hastened  back  to  his  farm.  A  part  of  every 
day  he  labored,  the  other  part  he  was  in  his  library.  He 
said  it  was  necessary  for  him  to  labor  if  he  would  study  with 
most  profit. 

Then  the  time  came  when  he  reached  a  high  station,  and 
this,  notwithstanding  his  politics  differed  from  the  adminis- 
tration which  appointed  him.  His  district  was  extensive ; 
he  was  away  from  home  more  than  half  of  the  year.  Some- 
times Lucy  went  along.  She  proved  to  be  a  lady  fitted  to 
adorn  the  station  he  occupied.  The  branches  of  study  to 
which  he  had  turned  his  attention,  and  his  practical  know- 
ledge of  the  customs  and  pursuits  of  the  people,  fitted  him 
to  decide  questions  upon  which  statute  and  common  law 
were  silent.  The  quiet  of  his  life  had  given  him  the  habit 
of  judging  carefully  and  without  partiality.  While  he  was 
fully  informed  of  the  wants  of  the  people,  he  was  withdrawn 
from  party  influences.  You  will  find  a  great  many  of  his 
decisions  in  the  Eeports.  Few  have  been  reversed.  They 
are  more  respected  and  more  binding  than  many  legislative 
enactments,  because  they  declare  what  are  the  bonds  which, 
in  the  nature  and  fitness  of  things,  bind  society  together. 
There  were  two  cases  where  Judge  Ilibbard  declared  laws 
enacted  in  the  legislature  to  be  void. 

This  account  is  written  to  point  out  a  way  for  professional 
young  men  who  linger  in  towns,  repressed  by  rivalry,  by 
poverty,  perhaps  by  youthful  indiscretion.  Did  I  choose  I 
could  take  you  to  the  judge's  elegant  home,  show  vou  his 
well-cultivated  acres,  his  red,  fat  steers,  his  sheep,  his  orchard 
and  his  nice  large  garden.  Quietly  sitting  where  wood  still 
burns  in  the  tire-place  in  the  wide  cheerful  kitchen,  is  an 
elderly  lady.  For  gentle  behavior,  kindness  to  all,  and  for 
true  piety,  few  excel  Lucy  the  judge's  wife.  She  waits,  for 
her  husband  has  gone  on  before.  Her  girls  have  married 
wealthy  and  influential  men,  and  are  looked  upon  as  the  first 
ladies  in  the  land. 

Among  the  very  eminent  and  useful  men  who  have 
adorned  our  coutitiy,  it  will  be  difficult  to  point  to  many 
who  did  not  have  a  practical  knowledge  of  agriculture. 


THE  LANGUAGE  OF  CATTLE. 

WHEN  cattle  talk  they  make  use  of  the  cattle  language, 
which  differs  from  ours  in  having  the  basis  relative, 
and  not  vocative,  and  if  one  would  understand  it,  he  must 
commence  by  placing  himself  over  in  their  line,  or  plane  of 
life.  It  is  now  over  seven  years  since  I  first  paid  attention 
to  this  subject,  and  at  first  I  reached  what  I  supposed  the 
true  secret,  the  outlines  of  which  I  sent  to  the  Prairie  Farmer, 
of  Chicago,  and  it  was  printed ;  but  upon  further  investigation, 
I  found  that  it  was  only  the  elementary  language  I  had  got 
hold  of,  and  not  even  one  of  the  second  degree.  So  far  from 
this  part  being  a  help  to  further  progress,  it  was  a  hindrance, 
and  it  seems  purposely  contrived  to  bar  extended  research. 
Although  this  branch  is  easily  acquired,  and  I  made  use  of 
it  in  attracting  their  attention,  still  it  very  much  surprised 
them,  but  they  were  not  offended.  As  I  proceeded  further, 
I  thought  it  best  to  be  cautious,  which  was  extremely  fortu- 
nate, for  I  will  remark  here,  that  cattle  have  a  law  to  put  an 
end  to  a  man  when  they  find  out  that  he  has  a  knowledge  of 
the  language  beyond  the  first  degree,  saying  nothing  about 
the  second,  third,  fourth,  and  fifth  degrees,  for  there  are  all 
these ;  but  I  never  progressed  beyond  the  third  degree,  and 
even  in  this  I  was  quite  imperfect.  This  caution  on  my  part 
seems  now  to  me  to  have  been  in  a  measure  prophetic,  but  I 
was  guided  by  the  consideration  that  possibly  they  might 
not  like  to  have  me  hear  them  talk,  and,  not  wishing  to  be 
out  nights,  hiding  in  fence-corners,  I  pretended  during  the 
long  time  I  was  going  through  my  studies  to  be  doctoring 
them  for  lice.  * 

(306) 


THE   LANGUAGE   OF   CATTLE.  307 

I  learned  the  elementary  branch  partly  by  accident,  and 
partly  by  induction ;  but  finding  it  unsatisfactory  I  was  put 
on  a  different  track  by  listening  to  my  son's  description  of 
telegraphy,  which  he  was  learning,  when  it  occurred  that 
cattle  might  have  a  similar  method.  Of  course  I  then  sup- 
posed that  the  inarticulate  sounds  they  utter  were  the  basis, 
but  I  found  that  these  were  too  few  in  number  to  make  suffi- 
cient combinations,  and  finally,  I  discovered  that  these  sounds 
are  blinds  and  guards  to  hide  their  real  language  with  its 
complication  of  degrees  from  the  knowledge  of  man.  The 
next  supposition  was,  that  the  secret  lay  in  the  motion  of 
their  jaws,  when  they  chew  the  cud,  but  this  would  not  ex- 
plain how  animals  talk  when  they  do  not  chew  the  cud. 
This  naturally  brought  me  to  a  stand,  for  I  could  find  no 
other  basis,  till  late  one  Saturday  afternoon,  having  put  on  a 
clean  shirt,  and  given  the  boys  permission  to  go  in  swim- 
ming, I  was  sitting  on  the  bars,  while  the  cattle  stood  in  the 
road,  having  come  up  from  the  bottom,  when  I  got  a  new 
idea.  Some  time  before  1  had  noticed  that  they  were  always 
sure  to  come  up  on  Saturday  night,  if  they  were  coming  at 
all,  though  they  might  be  absent  all  the  rest  of  the  week. 
Still,  instances  were  not  rare  when  one  or  two  would  not 
get  in  till  daylight  on  Sunday  morning.  I  had  also  noticed, 
and  often  had  been  mortified,  that  about  ten  o'clock  on  Sun- 
day morning,  when  folks  were  going  to  meeting  to  the  camp- 
ground, or  to  the  Baptist  school-house,  an  exhibition  would 
be  presented  not  seeming  to  me  proper  for  the  occasion. 

While  some  were  standing,  and  others  were  lying  down  in 
the  road  before  me,  it  seemed  to  me  that  the  only  remaining 
method  by  which  they  talk  must  lie  in  the  movement  of  the 
muscles  of  the  gums  and  lips,  which  almost  constantly  was 
going  on.  To  prove  that  this  might  be  the  case,  I  had  to 
make  a  series  of  experiments  on  the  acuteness  of  their  hear- 
ing. The  first  result  was  the  learning  that  their  hearing  is 
of  two  kinds :  one  of  the  common  kind,  and  the  other  of 
a  nature  unknown ;  and  on  this  last  I  studied  about  nine 
months,  till  I  was  able  to  hear  the  vibrations  of  their  language 


308  LIFE  IN  THE   WEST. 

in  the  second  degree.  The  first  clue  which  I  obtained  was  a 
cypher  which  led  me  into  a  labyrinth,  that  for  a  long  time 
seemed  inextricable,  by  reason  of  the  strange  formulas  I  had 
to  deal  with,  and  for  seven  months  I  was  nearly  stationary, 
while  at  times  I  was  almost  led  to  believe  that  the  cypher 
was  an  airy  vision  out  of  which  nothing  intelligible  ever 
could  come. 

Not  only  a  whole  year,  but  a  portion  of  a  second  year  had 
gone  by  since  starting  from  the  basis  of  animal  telegraphy, 
I  had  taken  up  the  formula  of  three  figures,  which  might  be 
5,  7  and  9,  or  2,  4  and  6,  multiplied  by  themselves  as  a  basis 
for  indefinite  combinations,  when  one  day  as  I  was  hoeing 
potatoes  on  a  piece  of  new  ground,  and  had  stopped  in  a 
fence-corner  to  rest,  I  picked  up  a  smooth  bark  which  had 
fallen  from  a  deadened  sycamore  in  the  potato  patch ;  and, 
taking  out  my  pencil  I  made  some  calculations  by  means  of 
fluxions  as  to  the  capacity  of  the  combinations.  Seeing  these 
to  spread  out  with  great  rapidity,  I  shifted  the  answer  of  the 
49th  power  from  2,  4  and  G  to  the  mean  of  5,  7  and  9,  and 
reversing  the  operation,  down  to  the  cypher  previously  ob- 
tained, and  which  I  have  called  ary,  I  had  a  very  strange  re- 
sult, but  on  looking  it  over,  I  saw  I  had  made  an  error  of 
several  thousand  millions,  which  I  corrected,  and  then  going 
down  cautiously,  I  had  a  short  sentence,  which  unmistakably 
related  to  a  transaction  in  which  I  knew  the  cattle  had  been 
engaged.  I  was  so  astonished  at  my  success,  that  I  put 
down  a  stake  to  show  where  I  left  off  hoeing  potatoes,  and 
started  for  the  house.  Going  through  a  part  of  the  corn-field, 
where  there  were  too  many  stalks  in  the  hill,  I  cut  out  a 
good  armfull  with  my  prun ing-knife,  and  putting  the  hoe  in 
among  the  stalks,  I  carried  the  whole  on  my  shoulder.  I  had 
several  fences  to  get  over,  and  being  somewhat  blinded  by 
the  blades,  I  went  a  little  out  of  my  course,  and  came  to  the 
border  of  a  field  where  the  boys  had  been  grubbing  in  the 
forepart  of  summer,  where  I  saw  they  had  planted  a  little 
patch  of  water-melons,  and  that  some  were  very  large.  Not 
satisfied  with  what  I  was  carrying,  1  had  to  go  aud  pick  out 


THE   LANGUAGE  OF   CATTLE.  309 

the  largest  water-melon  I  could  find  ;  and  as  it  weighed  forty 
or  fifty  pounds,  and  I  only  had  the  stem  to  carry  it  by — for 
if  I  undertook  to  cany  it  under  my  arm,  it  was  certain  to 
slip  out  and  burst  on  falling — you  may  be  sure  I  had  as 
much  as  I  could  do  to  stagger  under  my  load.  It  was  sunset 
when  I  reached  the  barn-yard,  where  the  cattle  already  were, 
and  being  exhausted,  I  put  the  fodder  in  the  mangers  of  the 
two  cows  and  shut  the  door,  when,  without  thinking  what  I 
was  really  doing,  I  repeated  the  sentence  I  had  mentioned 
with  the  corresponding  organs  of  ray  cheeks.  But  in  the 
next  instant  it  flashed  through  my  mind  what  I  had  done, 
and  I  threw  myself  into  one  of  those  coughs  which  always 
are  connected  with  the  ague  in  this  country,  but  while  I  was 
coughing  I  heard  all  the  cattle  give  an  unearthly  bellow, 
such  as  is  common  when  they  see  blood.  However,  when 
they  saw  how  composed  I  was,  for  it  was  a  matter  of  life  and 
death  with  me  that  I  should  be  so,  they  seemed  to  take  it  for 
granted  that  my  remark  was  purely  accidental,  the  same  as 
is  the  case  when  we  see  a  letter  or  an  indistinct  landscape 
made  by  the  white-wash  brush  on  the  wall. 

All  this  is  introductory  to  the  studies  which  were  neces- 
sary in  getting  into  the  second  degree,  and  thence  onward  to 
the  third  degree.  Now  I  could  go  on  and  divulge  this  whole 
matter  so  that  by  the  help  of  studies  the  reader  would  have 
all  the  knowledge  I  possess,  but  this  could  not  be  commended, 
since  young  men,  being  guided  more  by  curiosity  than  by 
prudence,  would  rush  without  caution  into  the  cattle  king- 
dom, when  they  would  be  disposed  of  so  quickly  that  neither 
themselves  or  their  folks  would  know  what  hurt  them.  The 
only  proper  way  to  have  this  knowledge  imparted,  that  I 
can  think  of,  is  to  have  a  special  meeting  of  the  Faculties  of 
our  Agricultural  Colleges,  when  they  should  fully  discuss 
the  matter,  and  only  decide  after  the  most  mature  delibera- 
tion. If  I  were  called  upon  to  give  a  candid  opinion  on  the 
subject,  I  should  say  it  is  doubtful  whether  it  would  be  ad- 
visable to  let  it  out  at  the  present  time. 

Ill  the  course  of  three  or  four  generations,  and  possibly  in 


310  LIFE   IN  THE   WEST. 

two — but  I  could  be  certain  on  this  point  if  I  should  make  a 
few  casts  in  fluxions — when  there  will  be  discoveries  in  many 
branches  of  art  and  in  science,  and  particularly  with  regard 
to  motive  power,  which  will  change  the  whole  system  of 
transit,  both  by  sea  and  by  land,  and  of  course  it  will  revo- 
lutionize the  details  of  industry,  all  of  which  will  be  associ- 
ated with  the  most  frightful  risks  to  human  life,  and  in  some 
cases  will  put  the  existence  of  whole  cities  in  jeopardy.  That 
time,  in  my  opinion,  will  be  the  one  to  have  the  cattle  lan- 
guage made  a  part  of  a  college  course,  for  by  reason  of  the 
caution  everywhere  infused  into  the  human  mind,  it  can  then 
become  a  part  of  a  finished  education  with  comparatively 
little  danger. 

Meanwhile,  that  this  knowledge  may  be  preserved  to  the 
world,  I  will  endeavor  to  take  time  from  other  duties  to 
write  out  a  cattle  grammar,  and  with  a  preface,  including 
their  alphabet,  and  what  I  know  of  their  etymology,  which 
should  be  deposited  in  the  corner-stone  of  some  agricultural 
college  on  the  occasion  of  its  being  laid.  But  now,  for  fear 
some  young  man  should  take  a  crow-bar  and  try  to  pry  out 
the  corner-stone  in  the  night,  that  he  might  get  at  this 
treatise,  I  will  relate  what  took  place  on  one  occasion,  which 
became  a  turning-point  in  my  life,  that  he  may  know  what 
to  expect  should  he  get  hold  of  the  book. 

Early  in  the  spring  I  had  a  black-and-white  calf  stray 
away,  and  as  we  were  very  busy  for  a  long  time  we  did  not 
get  it  home  till  September,  though  we  knew  where  it  was  all 
the  time,  which  was  in  a  range  along  some  bluffs  at  the 
foot  of  which  commenced  a  cane-brake  that  extended  several 
miles  along  Cypress  Creek.  At  that  time  we  had  a  yoke  of 
oxen,  some  young  steers,  two  cows,  another  animal,  a  horse, 
and  some  colts  big  enough  to  work,  remaining  in  the  wood- 
lot,  a  small  flock  of  sheep,  and  a  very  few  hogs — certainly 
not  more  than  thirty — which  lay  in  the  fence-corners  and 
•\vere  not  permitted  to  go  into  the  yard.  I  should  remark 
that  the  cattle  language  is  the  standard,  and  that  all  others 
correspond  to  provincialisms  which  arise  from  organic  dif- 


THE    LANGUAGE    OF    CATTLE.  311 

ferences ;  thus,  the  sheep  have  a  Frenchy  dialect,  horses  one 
partaking  of  the  Latin,  mules  of  the  rich  Irish  brogue,  hogs 
of  the  German,  and  dogs  of  the  Greek  accent.  Of  the  bird 
language  I  know  little  or  nothing  of  my  own  knowledge, 
though  I  got  many  ideas  from  the  cattle,  but  as  they  are 
only  second-hand  I  need  not  repeat  them.  From  the  same 
source  I  learned  that  the  snake  language  lies  in  an  interval 
between  the  second  degree  of  the  bird  language,  and  the 
first  degree  of  the  fish  language,  which  shows  that  the  de- 
grees of  different  species  interlock  with  each  other,  and,  when 
taken  collectively,  are  complicated;  but  I  gathered  that, 
after  seven  degrees  are  acquired,  the  remaining  twenty-four 
degrees  are  derivative.  This  includes  the  languages  of  all 
animals,  whether  wild  or  domestic,  and  all  insects  down  as 
low  as  mosquitoes  and  horse-flies.  At  this  point  comes  an 
inversion,  and  a  scale  of  an  ascending  order  commences 
which  apparently  goes  downward  among  the  animalcule, 
and  it  really  spreads  out  among  orders  which  are  wholly 
invisible.  With  these  we  need  not  trouble  ourselves,  for 
we  have  enough  on  hand  regarding  things  before  our  eyes. 

I  was  sitting  on  a  pile  of  lumber,  out  of  which  I  hoped 
some  day  to  be  able  to  build  a  new  barn,  when  the  boys,  just 
at  dusk,  came  along  with  the  calf  and  drove  it  into  the  yard. 

"No\v,  Avhere  under  the  sun  have  you  been?"  said  the 
white  cow,  the  mother  of  the  calf.  "  You  look  as  though 
you  had  been  through  the  mill,  as  the  old  man  says." 

"Well,  mam,  I've  been  under  the  bluff  and  in  the  cane- 
brake,  and  I  had  mighty  good  pickin'." 

"  Good  pickin' !  Only  hear  him.  You're  as  poor  as  a  crow, 
and  your  face  is  scratched  with  briars.  What's  that  gash 
in  your  leg  ?  I  should  think  the  dogs  had  been  after  you." 

"  Dogs  can't  catch  me,"  said  the  calf. 

"Yes,  I  see,  you're  skin  and  bone  and  can  run  like  a  deer. 
I  wonder  if  you  think  I'm  going  to  go  through  the  trouble 
of  having  calves  and  then  taking  care  of  them  when  they  are 
little  and  then  have  them  turn  out  this  way.  You  ought 
to  be  as  fat  as  a  mule  by  this  time.  But  I'll  let  you  know 


312  LIFE   IN  THE   WEST. 

I'll  have  no  such  work.  I'll  break  up  your  gadding  through 
the  country." 

Then  I  heard  quite  a  scuffle,  and  the  calf  made  a  great 
outcry  and  said : 

"  Oh !  don't,  ma,  don't !  don't !  Oh,  you  hurt  my  side. 
Please,  ma,  don't,  dont !  I'll  never  do  so  agin !" 

"  Agin  !  Only  listen  to  the  language  this  calf  uses.  Bless 
me,  if  it  isn't  enough  to  loosen  my  horns.  I've  a  good  mind 
to  give  you  another  going  over,  and  I  believe  I  will." 

"  Stop,"  said  Bright,  one  of  the  oxen,  "  you've  punished 
him  sufficient;  but  if  he  runs  off  agin,  I'll  take  him  in  hand 
myself." 

"  Very  well,"  said  his  mother.  "  I'll  let  him  off.  I  really 
feel  sorry  for  the  poor  thing.  Come  here,  my  son,  your 
mother  only  did  it  for  your  good." 

The  calf  went  up  to  its  mother,  when  she  licked  its  face 
and  sides,  and  put  it  in  a  little  decent  shape.  Then  the 
calf  showed  signs  of  repentance  by  shedding  tears,  and  the 
mother  also  wept. 

"I've  been  thinking,"  said  Dick,  the  other  ox,  "how  de- 
lightful it  is  for  us  to  dwell  together  in  sweet  accord. 
Trouble  enough  inheres  within  our  nature,  and  we  should 
be  on  the  guard  against  any  of  a  self-creation." 

"  I  don't  see  any  trouble  in  this  world,"  said  the  heifer, 
then  over  four  years  old. 

"What  do  you  know  about  trouble?"  said  the  other 
animal.  "  You  never  had  a  calf,  and,  in  my  opinion,  you 
never  will  have." 

At  this  all  the  cattle  smiled,  the  sheep  tittered,  and  the 
horse  gave  one  of  his  peculiar  laughs. 

"  You  needn't  run  ine  down,"  said  the  heifer.  "  I  havn't 
said  anything  against  you,  and  you  ought  not  to  hurt  my 
feelings." 

"  Never  mind  what  they  say,"  said  Bright.  "  You  must 
expect  some  little  rubs  in  this  world.  Still,  it  is  a  good  thing 
to  have  self-respect  and  not  to  permit  even  an  equal  to  de- 
tract from  your  true  merits.  On  the  other  hand,  you  should 


THE   LANGUAGE   OF   CATTLE.  313 

not  attach  too  great  importance  to  your  individuality.  This 
is  to  resemble  man,  who  has  an  idea  he  is  the  lord  of  the 
fowl  and  the  brute." 

"  It  is  really  amusing,"  said  Dick,  "  to  hear  the  old  man 
talk  to  his  boys  about  us.  For  instance,  he  told  them  to 
treat  us  kindly,  because  all  our  sources  of  enjoyment  spring 
from  them." 

"  It  is  characteristic,"  said  Bright,'"  of  every  vain  creature 
to  place  himself  at  the  head  of  everything  else,  whether  in 
small  or  in  large  communities,  and  without  any  regard  to 
the  figure  he  cuts.  So  long  has  man  gone  on  in  this  style 
that  he  thinks  he  alone  has  a  soul.  However,  it  is  extremely 
proper  in  the  constitution  of  things  that  he  should  be  self- 
deluded  in  this  manner,  because  the  relation  between  him 
and  us  coheres  by  reason  of  his  misconception.  Our  philo- 
sophers have  long  seen  that  if  he  should  discover  that  he  is 
inferior  to  us  he  would  at  once  struggle  to  emancipate  him- 
self. Thus,  our  well-being  depends  on  his  ignorance,  for  he 
will  be  our  slave  so  long  as  he  imagines  that  we  are  his 
slaves." 

"These  observations  are  just,"  said  Charley.  "When  I 
carry  him  on  my  back  I  cannot  help  smiling  at  the  import- 
ance he  assumes ;  and  yet,  he  is  such  a  simpleton  as  not  to 
suspect  that  he  spends  the  greater  part  of  his  time  in  work- 
ing for  me,  while  he  considers  what  little  I  do,  in  order  to 
keep  up  the  game,  as  of  the  utmost  importance." 

"  It  is  impossible,"  said  Dick,  "  to  conceive  of  a  more  in- 
genious arrangement  than  this,  which  leads  man  to  imagine 
himself  our  superior.  Often  have  I  thought  of  it  with  won- 
der and  gratitude,  and  we  never  can  be  too  thankful  that  we 
are  born  to  this  high  estate." 

This  lingo  was  too  much  for  me,  and  I  made  a  short  con- 
temptuous reply,  in  their  own  language ;  but  no  sooner  done 
than  I  realized  it,  and  immediately  turned  over  some  boards. 

"  I  declare,"  said  Bright,  "  I  thought  the  old  man  spoke 
to  us,  and  my  heart  almost  rose  into  my  mouth  to  think  he 
had  got  hold  of  our  language.  But  it  must  have  been  the 
14 


314  LIFE  IN   THE   WEST. 

boards.  It  can't  be  that  he  has  an  understanding  of  his  low 
condition." 

"  I  hardly  conceive  it  possible,"  said  Dick  ;  "  but  our  sus- 
picions have  been  aroused  several  times.  We  must  be  on 
our  guard,  and  keep  watch  of  each  and  every  action  as  closely 
as  a  cat  watches  a  mouse." 

"  What  would  you  do,  Dick,"  said  the  heifer,  "  if  he  should 
come  out,  now,  and  talk  to  us  ?" 

"  Do  ?  I'd  know  what  I'd  do  pretty  quick.  Only  one 
course  could  lie  open  for  me  to  pursue." 

"Yes;  but  he'd  run  into  the  house." 

"No  matter  for  that.  No  matter  for  fences,  gates  or 
other  obstacles.  It  would  be  a  time  to  unmask.  I  would 
burst  through  doors  and  search  him  out  even  though  he 
should  get  under  the  bed.  Should  he  happen  to  get  away 
or  climb  a  tree,  his  life  would  be  prolonged  only  a  few  days, 
for  we  would  issue  a  proclamation  which  would  travel  a 
thousand  miles  a  day ;  he  would  be  fully  described ;  when 
every  animal,  whether  on,  over,  or  under  the  earth — beast, 
bird,  fish,  insect,  which  no  eye  can  .see,  would  combine  to 
sweep  from  the  earth  such  a  dangerous  character.  This  is 
one  of  the  fundamental  requirements  of  our  Constitution, 
and  wisely  is  this  so,  that  the  subordinate  relations  which 
man  sustains  to  us  should  remain  inviolate.  But  there  is  no 
use  in  talking  over  these  old  matters — we  are  secreted  by 
the  most  impenetrable  circumvallations,  and  there  need  be 
no  fear.  Let  us  sink  to  our  nightly  repose — may  balmy 
sleep  be  disturbed  by  no  distorted  dreams,  and  may  there  be 
rain  soon,  so  as  to  start  the  grass,  for  it  is  getting  to  be  dry 
picking." 

Of  course  every  young  man  will  see  the  dangerous  posi- 
tion in  which  I  had  placed  myself  in  my  thirst  for  a  knowledge 
of  the  languages.  On  thinking  the  matter  all  over,  I  thought 
it  best  to  quit  the  farm  and  engage  in  some  business  that 
would  prevent  my  coming  in  relationship  with  cattle,  and 
that  my  dangerous  knowledge  might  wear  away  in  the 
course  of  time. 


THE  EGYPTIAN  PREACHER. 

LAST  year  I  was  away  from  home  during  June ;  ou  my 
return  certain  crops  which  I  was  expected  to  keep  clean 
were  overrun  with  weeds.  I  went  to  work.  Each  day  the 
sun  grew  hotter ;  it  beat  on  my  back  and  the  sweat  streamed. 
Under  a  shirt,  and  with  no  vest  on,  the  sweat  becomes  scald- 
ing hot ;  and  blisters  are  likely  to  follow.  One  used  to  it  can 
tell  when  a  blister  commences.  It  is  like  a  sharp  flea-bite. 
If  it  is  over  an  old  blister,  it  is  like  a  hornet's  sting  ;  if  over 
two  or  more  blisters,  it  is  like  the  acute  itching  of  an  old  sore. 
I  think  the  heat  there^  in  Southern  Illinois,  is  as  great  as  in 
North  Carolina,  where  they  have  a  sea-breeze.  Still,  for  ten 
years  I  had  not  found  it  so  stinging  as  last  summer.  I  did 
not  work  much  in  the  afternoon. 

One  day,  after  dinner,  I  was  sitting  in  the  shade  of  rny 
cedars,  wearing  a  clean  dry  shirt  and  thinking  of  the  weeds, 
when  our  preacher,  the  wagon-maker,  rode  up  to  the  gate 
and  wanted  to  know  if  we  had  any  cool  water.  I  told  him 
of  course  we  had,  and  that  he  must  alight  and  take  a  seat 
under  the  trees,  but  that  he  had  better  hitch  his  horse  in  the 
shady  barn-yard.  Besides  water,  we  had  cider  three  days 
old,  made  in  a  mill  which  the  boys  themselves  had  invented, 
and  it  was  just  about  right  to  cut  the  phlegm.  It  seemed  to 
do  the  preacher's  heart  good. 

After  we  had  chatted  a  spell,  I  told  him  about  a  job  I  had 
in  cleaning  my  cuttings  and  vines,  and  wondered  why  weeds 
were  so  abundant.  He  said  he  Would  tell  me  why.  Now 
the  Bramins  of  Hindostan  give  the  origin  of  many  things. 

(315) 


316  LIFE   IN  THE  WEST. 

Let  our  Egyptian,  Illinois  preacher,  educated  in  Western 
North  Carolina,  have  a  hearing,  and  in  his  own  words : 

"  Thar's  a  heap  o'  things  in  Skripter  as  has  ter  be  tuck  fig- 
gertive.  When  the  devil  come  ter  Eve  in  the  Garding  of 
Eding  ter  git  'er  ter  eat  apples,  it's  said  he  was  a  sarpint. 
That's  figgertive.  Ye  see,  he  telled  'er  them*  apples  was 
good,  green,  baked,  stewed,  or  made  inter  apple-butter,  and 
fur  pies  they  couldn't  be  beat.  It  was  kase  he  was  so  plav- 
erin'  and  ily,  and  had  so  many  reasons  why  she  should  eat 
them  apples,  he  'peared  like  he  was  a  sarpint.  That's  the 
figger. 

"  I  reckon  now  he  was  like  some  o'  them  chaps  from  the 
Rawchister  Nurssy  a  peddlin'  trees,  and  they  kin  lie,  oh, 
they  kin !  T'other  day  that  big  fat  feller  come  round,  and 
gittin'  on  the  fence  with  me  tried  more  nor  two  hours  to  get 
me  ter  buy  some  o'  his  truck.  At  last  ter  git  shet  on  him,  I 
telled  him  I'd  take  a  dozen  Buckinghams,  kase  I  wanted  'em 
wurst  way.  He  said  he  hadn't  got  'em,  and  never  hearn  on 
'em,  and  yet  he'd  just  been  tellin'  me  he  had  all  melodious 
keinds.  That  proved  he  was  a  liar.  They  all  orter  be  strung 
up.  Bym-by,  my  least  gal  come  and  called  me  ter  dinner; 
and,  sir,  that  feller  went  right  in,  and  my  old  woman  thinkin' 
I  brung  him  in  and  was  gwien  ter  sell  him  a  hoss,  was  power- 
ful perlite,  and  got  some  butter,  and,  sir,  he  sot  right  down 
without  anybody  a  axin'  him,  and  when  he  got  thro'  he  made 
a  low  bow  and  said  when  I  come  ter  Rawchister  I  must  call, 
and  he  went  off  and  didn't  offer  ter  pay  the  fust  red.  What 
d'ye  think  o'  that  ?  But  now  'bout  the  devil  who  's  at  the 
head  of  all  fruit  men. 

"  Them  apples  he  wanted  Eve  to  eat  I  'spose  was  grafted 
keinds,  like  yer  Northern  frouit,  meller  and  red  on  one  side. 
You  uns  has  'em  I  see,  and  they've  got  heaps  on  'em  ter 
South  Pass,  and  ter  Rawchister,  too,  may  be.  Fust  he  picks 
one  and  gives  ter  'er,  and  when  he  seed  'er  take  a  bite  he  tells 
'er  ter  stand  one  side,  and  he  gin  the  tree  a  powerful  shake 
which  brings  'em  down  good.  'Them  's  the  keind  ye  want,' 
says  he ;  *  t'others  aint  worth  shucks.'  That  bein'  done,  he 


THE   EGYPTIAN    PREACHER.  317 

goes  off  thro'  the  garding;  then  he  stops  and  looks  back, 
when  he  sees  'er  a  eatin'  on  'em  and  a  pickin'  'em  up  in  her 
apring. 

"  Then  the  devil  says  ter  hisself,  says  he,  '  she  's  gwien  ter 
take  'em  ter  her  old  man,  which  '11  be  the  eend  o'  this  little 
game ;  fur  he  '11  eat  'em  too,  and  then  he  '11  have  ter  pack  up 
his  duds  and  roll  out,  and  go  ter  choppin'  and  grubbin'  land 
fur  hisself.  Now  he  wont  make  no  fuss,  and  he  '11  go,  fur  he's 
rail  clever,  and  don't  want  ter  get  inter  no  fights,  but  ye 
bet  I  '11  fix  him. 

"  Then  he  scooted  across  thro'  the  peach-orchard,  and  come 
ter  a  little  patch  o'  corn  planted  fur  roasting  years,  and  clost 
ter  the  stable  which  is  in  front  o'  the  house.  Just  as  he 
come  out  o'  the  corn  he  seed  Adam  a  workin'  in  his  truck 
patch.  He'd  got  thro'  a  few  rows  of  cotting,  and  was  a 
hoein'  his  cowcumbers,  but  the  devil  stood  still,  fur  he  'lowed 
his  old  woman  'd  be  atter  him.  Sure  'nuff,  she  come  round 
the  house  whar  the  posies  was,  a  lookin'  like  a  posy  herself, 
and  tolled  him  to  come  inter  the  porch,  and  not  be  a  workin' 
like  a  nigger,  fur  she  'd  got  something  fur  him.  Yes,  she  'd 
got  something  not  quite  so  funny.  So  he  followed  'er.  Thar 's 
no  tellin'  where  he  wouldn't  follerd  'er. 

"Then  the  devil  goes  into  the  stable  and  looks  around, 
but  didn't  see  what  he  wanted.  Thar  wa'nt  much  thar,  but 
he  seed  a  hen's  nest  and  a  one-hoss  harness.  Ye  see  thar 
wa'nt  but  two  bosses  in  the  world,  and  one  was  hard  to  ketch, 
so  he  worked,  t'other,  and  bein'  fat,  she  made  corn  ntfff  fur 
his  bread,  and  ter  fat  his  bacon.  Then  he  slipped  inter  the 
smoke-house  whar  he  seed  what  he  was  atter,  which  was  a  sack 
that  was  a  hangiu'  on  a  hook,  clost  to  a  couple  o'  hen's  nests. 
He  tuck  it  down,  and  lookin'  in  ter  see  if  thar  was  any  holes, 
he  dusted  out  the  meal,  when  he  put  his  head  inter  the  mouth 
and  sayin'  a  few  hocus  pocus  words,  gin  three  or  four  strong 
blows  with  his  breath.  Immejently  the  sack  seemed  three 
parts  full,  like  as  if  it  was  clover  seed,  but  it.  wasn't,  it  was 
the  seed  o'  weeds  and  all  kind  o'  foul  stuff.  Then  he  fixed 
the  sack  around  him,  like  we  uns  does  when  we  're  gwien  to 


318  LIFE   IN   THE    WEST. 

sow  wheat,  and  he  started  off  with  a  peert  step,  a  swinging 
of  his  arm  and  a  sowin  of  the  seed.  So,  ye  see,  that's  why 
all  you  uns,  and  all  we  uns,  has  ter  work  so  hard  ter  keep 
our  craps  clean." 

When  the  preacher  had  finished  this  account  I  saw  that 
the  boys  had  been  holding  their  breath ;  when  I  asked  him  if 
he  would  have  any  more  cider.  He  said  he  would.  After 
he  wiped  his  mouth  I  asked  him  how  he  learned  so  many 
things  about  Adam.  He  said  he  studied  them  out,  and  what 
he  had  told  was  only  a  part.  Ah,  perhaps  he  could  tell  how 
Adam  got  along  on  his  new  farm,  and  if  the  devil  troubled 
him  any. 

"Yes,  sir-e.  It's  nigh  onto  fifty  mild  up  ter  the  Salines, 
whar  onct  a  month  I  goes  ter  meet  my 'pintments,  and  ridin' 
along  I  study  out  what  I'm  gwien  ter  preach,  besides  a  heap 
I  never  preaches,  kase  I  forgits  it,  or  it  don't  dove-tail.  Yer 
Northern  preachers  can't  do  much  without  a  bureau-drawer 
full  o'  books,  but  I  don't  want  ary  book  but  the  Bible ;  no, 
I  don't  want  a  dictionary." 

One  of  the  boys  said  he  thought  it  was  impossible  for  a 
public  speaker  to  get  along  without  this  book. 

"  Now,  see  heer,  young  man,  ye  may  write  a  purt  hand, 
and  may  be  has  read  books,  the  leaves  o'  which  I  han't  looked 
inter,  but  let  me  ax  if  a  dictionary  aint  tur  learn  how  ter 
spell  ?  Don't  interrupt.  Sartin  'tis.  Well,  how  ye  gwien 
ter  find  a  word  onless  ye  know  how  ter  spell  it  ?  Why,  young 
man,  I  spent  most  a  whole  day  lookin'  fur  one  lettle  word, 
and  then  I  gist  happen'd  on  it.  So,  don't  ye  see,  if  ye  've  got 
ter  spell  it  fust  ye  don't  want  ter  look." 

Here  I  told  him  that  as  civilization  had  not  commenced, 
Adam  could  not  have  tools  and  a  house  such  as  we  have. 

"Don't  ye  be  troubled  none  about  that.  I  tell  ye,  I've 
studied  this  subjiok  a  heap.  Don't  nobody  seem  ter  under- 
stand the  business,  kase  they  begin  at  the  wrong  eend.  Now, 
say,  ye  put  a  man  in  a  garding  with  nothing  but  peaches, 
apples,  and  water-millions  ter  eat  and  he'd  die  with  the  diree, 
or  git  the  ager  which  'd  throw  him  inter  the  winter  fever,  and 


THE  EGYPTIAN  PREACHER.  319 

that  'd  fix  him.  Then  think  of  his  havin'  a  wife  guv  ter  him, 
— buteous  in  course — and  then,  soon  as  conwenient,  young 
uns,  all  a  layin  out  doors,  and  nary  rag  ter  kiver  'em,  and  the 
skeeters  and  ticks  bitin'  on  'em;  why,  they'd  be  wus  off  nor 
hogs,  kase  hogs  has  brussels  and  kin  eat  grass  and  waller  and 
don't  want  no  more.  Mighty  buteous,  I  reckon  his  old  woo- 
man  'd  be  atter  campin'  out  a  spell,  and  nary  comb  for  her 
har,  nor  towelin'  ter  wipe  her  face.  So,  ye  see,  he  had  ter 
have  a  house,  and  a  bed,  and  fire  whar  he  could  cook  his  wit- 
ties  and  warm  hisself,  when  he  was  likely  ter  have  the  ager. 
Ye  may  say  what  ye  're  a  mind  ter,  he  had  ter  have  help,  and 
I  '11  argy  it  with  ary  man,  little  or  big.  Them  things  he 
couldn't  a  got  hisself,  kase  it  takes  time,  and  afore  he'd  got 
'em  he'd  been  laid  out.  Who  't%was  helped  him  I  don't  say, 
kase  when  a  feller  can't  swim,  it's  easy  nuff  to  get  inter  deep 
water.  Thar's  a  heap  more  things  on  this  pint,  but  I  won't 
dwell  on  'em,  fur  ye  see  they  belong  ter  a  sarmon  I  preaches 
at  camp-meetings,  when  I  have  for  orditers  lawyers,  march- 
ands  and  flossifers. 

"  "We  all  know  Adarn  had  ter  roll  out  o'  the  garding  ter 
open  a  new  plantation ;  I  understand  all  'bout  that  myself. 
Dad  had  a  good  farm  in  North  Carolina  and  two  niggers, 
but  thar  got  ter  be  too  many  o'  us  young  uns,  and  craps  was 
mighty  weak — not  more  nor  one  bale  ter  four  acres,  so  I  come 
ter  the  Eelinois,  and  when  I  landed  in  old  Jonesboro,  all  I 
had  was  six  bitts  in  money,  a  hoss  and  a  chist  o'  tools,  which 
my  kin  brung.  I  squatted  on  Gov'ment,  and  in  five  years  I 
entered,  but  me  and  my  old  woman  seed  hard  times  afore  we 
got  a  goin,'  kase  the  range  was  most  eat  out  afore  we  come. 

"  Adam  didn't  go  no  furder  nor  a  mild  or  two.  He  tuck 
what  plunder  his  hoss  could  pull  on  the  slide,  and  his  old 
woman  tote  on  her  head,  and  he  fixed  up  a  shanty  of  poles 
and  green  brush  whar  he  was  gwieii  ter  clar  land.  In  course 
he  had  a  bustin'  big  spring,  and  the  sile  was  fust  best,  kase 
the  job  o'  startin'  the  human  race  wouldn't  a  ben  begun 
whar  the  land  was  pore.  Them  was  happy  days,  fur  thar 
was  a  big  range,  thar  wa'nt  no  land-office,  and  no  taxes.  He 


320  LIFE  IN   THE  WEST. 

druv  off  his  stock,  fur  he  had  ter  have  cows  and  hogs  and 
hosses  as  well  as  oxens,  which  is  mighty  handy  in  new  ground. 
I  don't  spose  the  trees  was  werry  big,  kase  they  hadn't  much 
time  ter  grow. 

"  Onct  in  awhile,  he  tuck  his  hoss  and  slide  back  ter  the  old 
plantation,  ter  see  what  he  could  pick  up,  and  thar  didn't 
nobody  tell  him  ter  clar  out,  kase  he  couldn't  git  a  start  no- 
whar  else.  Fust,  he  had  ter  pick  corn  ter  last  till  he  could 
make  another  crap,  and  thar  was  inyuns,  beets,  and  sweet 
taters  and  water-millions  which  he  left  a  growin'  and  cabbage 
ter  make  his  krout,  and  all  kinds  o'  garding  seeds ;  then  he 
tuck  sprouts  off  o'  the  apple  trees,  and  there  was  this  and  that 
and  tother  thing,  so  he  piled  up  his  slide  with  all  his  hoss 
could  pull. 

"  I  know  he  must  a  had  a  power  o'  work  in  him,  fur  he 
was  the  dad  of  all  the  good  workin'  fellers  atter  him,  and  he 
put  in  his  time  airly  and  late,  fur  he  had  a  heap  ter  do.  Un- 
fortunate, Caanan  hadn't  ben  cust  then,  so  he  couldn't  get  no 
niggers,  but  his  old  woman  piled  brush  and  helped  roll  logs 
ter  build  his  housen. 

"  In  a  few  years  he  had  a  double  log-house,  with  a  chim- 
bley  at  each  eend,  and  porches  on  both  sides,  whar  he  kept 
his  sacks  o'  small  grain,  and  his  flour  and  meal,  and  his  sad- 
dles and  harness,  and  whar  he  sot  and  smoked  his  pipe  on 
a  rainy  day,  while  his  old  woman  was  a  spinnin'  or  weaving  > 
and  his  young  uns  was  a  cuttin'  up.  The  cook-house  was 
back ;  then  he  had  a  spring-house  and  a  smoke-house,  and  a 
stable  and  a  paleing  around  his  garding  ter  keep  out  the  chick- 
ings,  and  all  was  on  the  plan  of  the  old  place  called  paradise. 

"  The  range  was  fust  best,  and  all  his  stock  ran  out,  but 
it  came  up  every  night,  kase  it  wanted  ter  be  near  the 
only  man  thar  was,  so's  ter  see  how  he  got  along,  and  so's 
to  get  a  little  salt ;  and  as  nobody  else  kept  hogs,  he  had 
a  big  gang  which  got  plum  fat  on  the  mast.  It  must  a  been 
like  the  Eelinois  in  airly  day,  when  the  grass  and  pea-vines 
and  the  range  were  good  all  winter,  and  a  fat  buck  could 
a  ben  killed  any  mornin'  afore  breakfast. 


THE   EGYPTIAN   PREACHER.  321 

"  Xow,  alter  they'd  got  the  plantation  well  opened,  and  it 
was  a  bringin'  on  'em  in  a  big  pile  o'  money  every  year,  the 
devil  says  ter  hisself,  I'll  give  'em  a  call  ter  see  how  they  git 
along.  He  comes  in  the  fall,  when  peaches  and  water-mil- 
lions was  ripe,  expectin'  ter  have  a  good  time.  When  he 
comes  to  the  barrs  he  stops  and  hollers,  but  the  dogs  didn't 
bark  a  hait,  and  they  run  under  the  house  kinder  yelpin'. 
Now  Adam  was  a  good  religious  man,  and  he  tuck 
great  kere  ter  bring  up  his  chaps  in  nurture  and  admoni- 
tion. So  every  day  he  had  'em  knock  off  work  airly,  say  a 
hour  by  sun,  and  gettin'  'em  tergether  in  the  room,  they  had 
a  little  Sunday-school  and  said  their  catecism.  Them  young 
uns  was  handsome,  ye  better  believe,  and  they  was  as  smart 
as  a  steel  trap  ;  and  they  want  'tall  kentrayry,  for  when  they 
got  a  lickin'  they  didn't  keep  on  bellerin',  but  shet  up,  kase 
they  knowed  they  deserved  it.  They  was  sayin'  their  lessons 
when  the  devil  holler'd.  Immejiautly  they  all  ran  out  inter 
the  porch  and  their  pap  follered  'em.  Adam  says  ter  the 
devil,  says  he,  '  Howd'y  ?'  The  devil  says,  '  So's  ter  be  a 
stirrin',  how's  all  you  uns?'  'Right  purt,  though  some  o' 
the  chaps  has  the  chicken-pox ;  but  don't  be  feared,  come 
in.'  The  devil  tries  ter  let  down  the  bars,  but  they  was 
wedged  so's  to  keep  out  the  hogs ;  so  he  jumps  over  sprier 
nor  a  cat.  A  gal  brings  a  cheer  out  on  the  porch,  her  pap 
gets  one  hisself,  and  they  sot  down  and  went  ter  chattin'. 

"Afore  the  door  was  the  cows,  and  Eve  was  a  milkin'  'em 
in  a  tin  cup,  while  a  gal  was  keepin'  watch  o'  the  bucket  fur 
her  man  ter  pour  in  the  milk ;  and  their  bosses  was  comin' 
up  and  layin'  down,  and  in  the  fence-corners  was  the  hogs 
a  squeelin'.  Other  things  was  a  comin'  up  and  layin'  down, 
sich  as  deer,  illiphants,  camels  and  rhinocerhosses,  and  on  a 
hill  clost  by  was  the  lions,  bars  and  tigers.  Their  sheep  was 
put  in  a  pen-  by  the  stable  kase  some  had  run  off  in  the 
night. 

"Eve  seed  him  jump  over  the  bars,  and  she'd  a  ide  who  he 
was,  but  she  kept  on  milkin' ;  and  when  she  got  through  she 
went  down  to  the  milk-house,  where  she  skimmed  milk  for 


322  LIFE   IN    THE   WEST. 

supper,  which  a  gal  carried  up  by  the  back  way  on  her  head ; 
then  mam  follered  'er  with  a  little  crock  o'  butter. 

" '  Feared  like  supper  was  most  ready,  for  somebody  had 
tuck  the  kiver  off  the  baker,  and  the  corn-bread  smelled  good 
through  the  house,  and  there  was  another  good  smell  of  cab- 
bage and  bacon.  Adam  wondered  what  had  done  and  gone 
with  his  old  woman ;  so  he  wrent  atter  'er  and  found  'er  in 
tother  house  puttin'  on  a  clean  dress.  He  telled  'er  there 
was  a  gentleman  wanted  ter  stay  all  night.  She  said,  maybe 
he  mought  stay,  but  she  wanted  ter  see  him  fust.  Then  she 
piled  a  lot  o'  new  quilts  in  a  cheer  by  the  door  and  went 
inter  the  porch.  When  the  devil  seed  'er  he  gits  up  and 
makes  a  scrape  and  a  bow,  and  she  makes  a  little  curchy. 
One  says  its  a  fine  ev'nin',  and  tother  says  it  'pears  as 
though  it  mought  rain.  He  looked  different,  but  she  was 
most  sartain  she  knowed  him,  and  she  watched  him  power- 
ful sharp. 

"  Then  supper  was  ready,  and  they  went  through  the  two 
housen  and  by  the  door  whar  the  quilts  was  inter  the  cook- 
room.  Hur  was  a  loom  with  a  piece  in  it,  and  a  long  table 
kivered  with  wittles,  and  all  the  young  uns  standin'  round ; 
and  thar  was  their  eldest  gal,  about  sevingteen,  who'd  been 
a  cooking,  and  who  stood  ready  ter  pour  the  coffee  out  o' 
the  tea-kettles,  kase  coffee-pots  wa'nt  inwented  then.  The 
devil  hadn't  seed  'er  afore,  and  she  was  the  pootiest  gal  ever 
on  this  yarth  afore  or  since,  and  her  pap  and  mam  thought 
a  heap  on  'er;  and  when  the  devil  seed  'er,  he  gin  a  wery 
perlite  bow.  Her  mam,  who  was  on  the  watch  of  him,  seed 
then  by  his  eyes  who  he  was,  fur  he  let  it  out,  and  she  fired 
up  on  a  suddent.  They  was  jist  sittin'  down  when  Eve 
slipped  back  the  cheer  the  devil  was  gwien  ter  sit  in,  and  he 
fell  back  in  a  bad  shape.  Then  she  tuck  the  paddle  out  o' 
the  big  mush-kettle  over  the  fire,  which  was'clost  by,  and 
gin  him  eight  or  ten  licks,  sayin'  she  knowed  who  he  wus ; 
he'd  told  a  big  lie  about  them  apples,  and  got  'em  turned 
off  their  plantation ;  and  now  atter  they'd  got  another  one 
gwien,  atter  a  heap  of  hard  work  and  a  power  o'  bad  luck, 


THE   EGYPTIAN  PREACHER.  323 

he'd  come  round  had  he,  ter  cut  up  some  more  of  his  didos, 
so's  ter  get  'em  turned  off  agin  ?  She'd  larn  him.  He 
was  gwien  ter  git  round  her  oldest  gal,  was  he  ?  Yes,  she'd 
see  him  git  around  'er. 

"In  course,  the  devil  was  tuck  by  surprise,  and  when  he 
tried  ter  git  up  she  slapped  him  in  the  face,  which  settled 
him  a  wee  bit ;  but  she  seed  by  the  red  of  his  eyes  that  he 
was  alfired  mad,  when  she  dipped  the  paddle  in  the  mush 
and  laid  it  on  his  cheeks  and  whiskers  thick,  and  some  she 
put  in  his  har.  This  hurt  him  so  bad  that  he  crawled  under 
the  loom  and  got  behind  the  treadles  whar  she  couldn't  reach 
him.  Then  the  devil  ax'd  Adam  if  he  allowed  his  old  woman 
ter  treat  strangers  that  way,  almost  as  soon  as  they  landed. 
Adam  said  as  'twas  a  quarrel  'twixt  'em  he  wouldn't  meddle, 
and  he  reckoned  she'd  take  kere  of  herself. 

"  This  incouraged  'er,  and  she  tuck  the  pokin'  stick  from 
the  corner  and  went  at  him  agin.  It  was  made  o'  dog- 
wood, and,  in  course,  burnt  on  the  eend,  and  bein'  long  nuff 
fur  ter  reach  him,  she  punched  his  ribs  and  head  like  he  was 
a  snake.  It's  a  mighty  tight  place  fur  a  feller  ter  git  under 
a  loom,  fur  there's  so  many  cross-beams  and  so  much  gearin' 
he  bumps  his  head.  It's  powerful  tangled,  and  the  devil 
couldn't  do  nothin'  but  whop  over  and  over.  All  the  time 
she  kept  giviii'  him  her  mind,  and  he  must  a  felt  awful 
shamed. 

"  At  last  the  devil  couldn't  stand  it  no  longer,  and  he  gin 
a  dive  out  o'  the  loom,  when  she  fetched  down  the  biggest 
kind  of  a  pound  across  his  back  which  made  him  scrouch 
and  crawl  under  the  table,  when  he  got  up  on  t'other  side. 
Then,  as  soon  as  he  could  stretch  hisself,  he  turned  inter  his 
own  shape ;  his  horns  stuck  up,  and  he  spit  fire.  He  ran 
inter  the  porch,  and,  givin'  a  spring,  he  landed  in  the  lane, 
whar  he  gin  the  awfulest  yell  ye  ever  hearn,  and  the  wind 
began  ter  blow.  But  in  less  nor  two  minutes  it  was  all  over, 
and  when  they  went  inter  the  porch  all  they  seed  was  a  black 
cloud  over  the  tree^tops  which  was  a  switchin'  in  the  wind." 

The  boys  were  so  pleased  with  the  preacher's  account  of 


324  LIFE   IN   THE   WEST. 

Adam  on  a  new  farm,  that  they  went  up  in  the  haymow 
and  got  him  some  apples.  After  he  had  chanked  a  spell, 
one  of  the  girls  in  the  house  began  to  play  on  the  inelodeon. 
The  preacher  asked  the  boys  if  they  ever  played  on  the 
fiddle.  They  said  not. 

"  That's  right,"  said  the  preacher.  "  Fiddles  is  the  wust 
thing  a  young  man  can  play  on.  Heaps  has  been  ruined 
by  'em.  The  fust  fiddle  made  a  power  o'  trouble,  and  it  aiut 
through  yit." 

"I  wonder  now,"  said  one  of  the  boys,  "  if  the  devil  didn't 
have  a  hand  in  it." 

"Sartin;  and  I'll  tell  how  'twas.  Atter  Eve  druv  him 
out  o'  the  house  he  dussent  show  hisself,  and  he  sneaked 
round  the  lots  and  through  the  corn-fields  hopin'  ter  git  a 
chance  ter  play  some  more  tricks.  Some  on  'em  saw  him 
onct  in  a  while,  and  he  telld  'em  ter  stop,  he  wanted  ter  tell 
'em  somethin',  but  they  wouldn't  hear  nary  word. 

"  When  the  two  oldest  boys  growed  up,  the  range  was 
most  eat  out,  and  as  they'd  gone  inter  the  sheep  business 
pretty  stiff,  they  had  ter  drive  'em  out  on  the  prairie  and 
take  turns  a  watchin'. 

"  Now  Abel  was  a  good  boy,  and  when  it  was  his  turn, 
he  spent  the  time  when  the  sheep  was  eatin'  in  reading  good 
books  and  in  singin'  himes.  But  Cain  was  'nother  sort,  and 
he  didn't  do  nothin'  but  hunt  rabbits.  The  devil  soon 
larned  this,  so  one  day  he  comes  and  ax'd  him  if  he'd  seed 
any  o'  his  sheep.  He  didn't  look  like  he  did  afore,  but  like 
Cain  and  we  uns.  Then  they  scraped  acquaintance,  and  it 
didn't  tuke  long  fur  'em  ter  git  pretty  thick. 

"  One  day  the  devil  brings  him  a  fiddle  and  tells  him  it's 
the  best  thing  ever  was  ter  kill  time,  and  he  played  him  a 
chune.  Then,  ye  see,  Cain  bein'  natterly  bad,  tuck  ter  the 
fiddle,  and  he  didn't  stop  till  he  larned  ter  play  hisself. 
When  he  got  so's  ter  play  quite  peert  he  tuck  it  home,  and 
they  ax'd  him  whar  he  got  it.  He  said  he  made  it.  One 
lie  allers  follers  another.  They  looked  in  it  and  thought  it 
was  mighty  funny.  Then  he  sot  down  and  played  a  lot  o' 


THE   EGYPTIAN   PREACHER.  325 

dancin'  chunes,  which  made  'era  feel  lively.  Atter  that  he 
uster  sit  in  the  porch  of  an  evenin',  and  with  his  hat  cocked 
on  one  side,  a  segar  in  his  month,  and  a  beetin'  time  with 
his  foot,  he  played  the  chunes  the  devil  lamed  him — Opry 
Reel,  Munny  Musk,  and  Fisher's  Hornpipe. 

"In  course,  the  young  uns  soon  got  ter  dancin',  but  their  old 
dad  had  ter  stop  it,  fur  he  seed  whar  it  was  leadin'  to.  But 
Cain  kept  on  playin',  and  when  he  went  out  with  the  sheep 
he  had  the  fiddle  handed  up  to  him  on  the  hoss,  and  he  got 
in  a  grove,  and  sot  on  the  saddle  like  a  gal,  so  as  to  be  ready 
when  the  sheep  went  off,  and  he  played  away.  Sometimes 
the  devil  come  ter  give  him  lessons,  or  ter  hear  how  well  he 
could  play,  while  he  sot  on  a  log  and  chawed  tobarker,  not 
bein'  much  inclined  ter  smoke,  as  he  had  enough  of  that  at 
home. 

"  Sunday  atternoon,  them  two  gentlemen  had  high  times. 
There  was  a  white-oak  grove  whar  the  straw  was  left  when 
they  thrashed  wheat,  and  whar  the  devil  sometimes  slept 
nights.  Cain  brung  apples,  peaches  and  water-millions,  and 
sometimes  sweet  taters,  which  they  roasted ;  and  atter  they'd 
stuffed  theirselves,  Cain  tuck  his  fiddle  out  of  the  green  bag, 
and  the  devil  tuck  out  his'n,  and  they  went  to  playin'  lively 
as  a  span  o'  bosses  in  a  right  smart  trot.  Bym  by  a  young 
couple  was  seed  comin'  up  through  the  grove  a  dancin',  and 
then  'nother  and  'nother,  till  the  grove  was  like  a  ball-room. 
The  fellers  wur  good-lookin',  and  had  black  eyes,  long  har 
and  red  faces,  and  the  gals  wrur  the  handsomest  ever  seed, 
fur  they  wore  their  aprings  low.  Who  they  was,  or  whar 
they  came  from,  I  can't  tell,  and  when  the  fiddles  stopped 
they  wanished. 

"Abel  wouldn't  have  no  hand  in  this  business,  and  he 
telled  his  brother  he  ortent  ter  do  it.  Cain  said  if  he  didn't 
like  it  he  might  lump  it.  Then  Abel  went  ter  argering, 
till  they  got  ter  disputin'.  It's  allers  bad  ter  argy.  Then 
there  was  'nother  thing.  We  all  know  how  it  turned  out. 
O  Lord  a  mercy !  what  a  heap  o'  trouble  thar  is  in  this 
yarth !  The  trouble  about  young  uns  turns  the  har  grey. 


326  LIFE   IN   THE  WEST. 

Yes,  sir,  the  bar  turns  grey  if  we've  got  'em,  and  it  turns 
grey  if  we  hain't  got  'em.  Don't  nobody  know  nothin'  'bout 
it  till  they  git  thar.  How  kin  they  ?  But  we  won't  talk 
'bout  it.  No. 

"So  Cain  had  ter  pack  up  his  duds  and  move  off  west. 
Afore  he  went  he  had  a  mai'k  put  on  him.  My  ide  is,  he 
got  a  tap  from  a  cane  that  was  blackened  in  the  fire,  and 
it  spread  all  over  and  made  a  nigger  of  him.  That's  why  a 
nigger  allers  likes  a  fiddle. 

"  Now,  ye  see,  if  thar  hadn't  been  no  fiddle,  thar  wouldn't 
a  been  no  niggers ;  and  if  thar  hadn't  been  no  niggers,  the 
North  wouldn't  a  gone  and  fit  the  South,  and  then,  atter 
that,  our  party  wouldn't  a  got  licked." 


THE  SHEPHERD  OF  SALISBURY  PLAIN. 

IMPROVED. 

IN"  one  of  the  most  fertile  regions  of  New  England,  where 
the  farms  were  large  and  the  farmers  wealthy,  lived 
Bryan  Ray.  He  was  a  poor  young  man,  his  parents  were 
dead,  he  worked  for  different  farmers  by  the  month.  At 
the  free  school  he  got  some  learning,  he  was  steady  and  well- 
behaved,  he  was  slow  to  think  ;  he  was  not  considered  smart. 

When  he  was  eighteen  years  old  there  was  a  revival  of 
religion ;  he,  among  many,  experienced  a  change  of  heart, 
and  he  united  with  the  church.  Then  he  became  noted  for 
his  piety.  Time  strengthened  his  convictions,  and  no  one 
more  enjoyed  religion. 

Wages  were  low ;  he  got  nine  dollars  a  month,  he  could  not 
dress  fine.  His  best  garments  were  home-made  full  cloth ; 
his  handkerchief,  domestic  check  linen.  After  paying  for  his 
clothes  and  giving  to  missionary  charities,  he  had  little  left  at 
the  end  of  the  year.  He  was  a  humble  member  of  the  church, 
but  he  gave  so  much  in  proportion  to  his  means  that  like  the 
widow  in  Scripture  he  was  considered  to  give  more  than  they 
who  donated  largely.  The  minister  would  kindly  take  him 
by  the  hand,  and  well-dressed  ladies  asked  him  how  he  did. 

When  the  time  came  for  him  to  marry,  he  selected  a  pious 
and  poor  young  woman,  also  an  orphan,  who  had  been  brought 
up  in  a  good  family  to  habits  of  industry.  They  had  a  pleas- 
ant wedding,  even  though  some  of  their  clothing  was  bor- 
rowed. The  folks  who  brought  up  Ruth  gave  her  a  good 
bed,  rather  they  had  given  her  time  to  make  it,  with  some 
few  things  beside  ;  with  what  little  money  he  had,  more  were 
(837) 


328  LIFE   IN    THE    WEST. 

bought,  and  the  new  family  was  established.  Then  he  boarded 
himself  and  worked  for  the  farmers  by  the  day. 

He  could  see  no  chance  for  rising ;  land  and  houses  were 
very  dear,  land  in  the  western  country  was  far  aAvay ;  there, 
churches  were  fe\v,  and  it  was  sickly.  Among  the  few  books 
he  read  was  the  "  Shepherd  of  Salisbury  Plain."  He  was 
charmed  with  the  piety  and  contentment  of  the  shepherd. 
That  poor  man  owned  nothing  ;  he  lived  in  a  poor  cottage  on 
Salisbury  Plain,  in  England,  and  he  supported  his  family  by 
taking  care  of  a  rich  man's  sheep.  His  children  picked  up 
sticks  for  fuel,  and  searched  for  wool  which  the  thorns  tore 
from  the  sheep ;  this  helped  to  make  their  garments,  which, 
though  clean,  were  a  series  of  patches.  Bryan  Ray  loved  to 
read  those  passages  where  the  shepherd  speaks  on  religious 
subjects,  and  he  learned  that  to  be  wise  unto  salvation  should 
be  the  chief  object  of  every  human  being.  When  a  poor  man 
seeks  this  he  becomes  rich  in  the  inheritance  of  an  incor- 
ruptible crown.  Mr.  Ray  seeing  himself  hopelessly  poor,  and 
having  found  peace  in  believing,  settled  within  his  mind  that 
he  would  live  like  the  Shepherd  of  Salisbury  Plain.  He 
would  not  be  ensnared  with  riches;  free  from  care,  he  best 
could  serve  his  Maker ;  if  a  man  is  poor,  he  is  honest ;  the 
sleep  of  the  laboring  man  is  sweet. 

One  cannot  tell  how  many  poor  and  pious  men  have  been 
made  contented  with  their  lot  by  reading  this  book.  Perhaps 
many  of  the  children  of  these  poor  men  have  been  tempted 
and  lost.  It  would  be  saying  what  is  not  known  to  be  true, 
that  this  book  was  written  in  the  interest  of  the  English  no- 
bility and  the  landed  aristocracy.  But  it  is  known  to  be  true 
that  they  have  recommended  it  to  the  poor  as  a  book  by 
which  they  ought  to  be  guided.  Rich  and  pious  people  in 
other  countries  have  done  the  same ;  its  influence  has  been 
great,  and  it  is  powerful  to-day.  The  strongest  link  in  the 
chain  of  slavery  has  been  the  teachings  of  religious  people. 
The  most  important  of  the  precepts  of  the  Apostle  is,  that 
the  laborer  is  worthy  of  his  hire.  Human  legislation  ap- 
proached the  divine  when  it  passed  the  Homestead  Bill. 


THE   SHEPHERD    OF   SALISBURY  PLAIN.  329 

Mr.  Ray  would  eat  his  breakfast  by  the  break  of  day ;  then, 
with  a  light  step,  he  hastened  to  the  farm  where  he  was  to 
work.  When  his  day's  labor  was  done,  the  farmer  would 
pay  him  with  a  piece  of  pork,  a  few  pounds  of  flour  or  any 
thing  else  he  might  need,  and  tying  it  in  a  little  bundle,  he 
put  his  ax-helve  through  it  and  returned  home.  His  dwell- 
ing was  an  old  school-house,  remote  and  cold.  He  had 
neither  cow  nor  pig.  Ruth  kept  three  or  four  hens  which 
looked  pinched  and  pale,  so  few  were  the  crumbs  which  fell 
from  their  table.  A  little  garden-spot  was  attached  to  the 
house,  but  the  ground  was  so  poor  scarcely  any  thing  would 
grow.  His  first  enterprise  was  to  take  corn  instead  of  Indian- 
meal  for  his  work.  If  it  was  a  wet  time,  he  got  it  ground 
near  by,  he  could  carry  a  bushel  on  his  back ;  but  if  it  was 
dry  he  had  to  hire  a  horse.  The  farmers  did  not  like  to  let 
a  horse  go ;  often  he  spent  a  whole  day  in  getting  one ;  it 
took  another  day  to  go  to  mill ;  sometimes  the  delay  was  so 
great  they  had  to  borrow  meal,  and  when  it  was  paid  there 
was  not  much  left. 

Had  good  farmers  been  the  parents  of  Ruth,  she  would 
have  been  called  handsome.  She  had  fresh  cheeks,  beautiful 
eyes,  regular  features,  and  very  long  hair.  She  had  not  been 
certain  whether  she  could  get  married  at  all,  and  she  thought 
herself  fortunate  in  getting  such  a  man  as  Mr.  Ray.  It  is 
the  men  who  own  and  earn  every  thing.  She  thought  it  was 
much  to  be  united  to  one  of  this  class ;  perhaps,  in  some  way, 
he  might  get  a  little  property.  She  would  help  him  with  all 
her  soul  and  strength. 

She  made,  washed  and  mended  his  clothes;  his  meals 
were  always  ready.  On  cold,  stormy  nights,  when  he  had 
to  help  the  farmers  fodder  and  get  in  wood,  she  had  his  sup- 
per waiting,  a  fire  burning,  and  the  room  was  cheerful.  It 
was  very  plain  food,  but  with  a  most  sincere  heart  he  would 
give  thanks  to  the  Divine  Parent  for  bestowing  food  and 
health,  and  for  the  great  gift  of  his  Son,  through  whom  every 
one  may  come  into  the  inheritance  of  eternal  life. 

Ruth  was  industrious ;  sometimes  she  was  lonesome  and 


330  LIFE  IN  THE  WEST. 

went  to  see  the  neighbors.  They  always  treated  her  well, 
and  if  they  were  eating  dinner  they  would  ask  her  to  sit  by. 
If  the  woman  was  frying  nut  cakes  she  would  offer  Ruth  one. 
At  other  times  she  would  sit  and  look  all  around  the  house, 
considering  the  bunches  of  skeins  of  yarns,  and  the  many 
pieces  of  dried  beef,  and  she  did  not  fail  to  look  into  the  but- 
tery where  were  cheeses,  pies,  bread  and  meat  and  butter  on 
the  shelves.  Near  her  house  was  a  spring,  around  it  grew 
spear  mint ;  often  she  went  thither  and  eat  it  as  if  she  was 
hungry.  One  morning  her  husband  told  her  to  go  to  a  cer- 
tain farmer  and  get  a  pint  of  vinegar  which  he  had  paid  for. 
At  supper  he  asked  for  it,  he  would  put  some  on  his  cab- 
bage. She  said,  when  she  brought  it  home,  she  thought 
she  would  taste  of  it,  and  she  liked  it  so  well  she  drank 
it  up. 

The  second  year  of  their  marriage,  Mr.  Ray  rented  an  acre 
of  land  and  planted  it  with  corn.  Ruth  heard  that  a  farmer's 
wife  wanted  to  hire  some  spinning  done,  she  went  to  see  her 
and  got  it  to  do.  She  was  to  spin  a  certain  number  of  knots, 
and  was  to  have  a  small  pig.  It  took  her  some  time  to  do 
it,  for  she  had  a  sick  spell ;  then  she  took  it  to  the  woman 
and  got  her  pig.  It  was  a  mile  and  a  half  she  had  to  go ; 
she  ran  all  the  way ;  the  pig  was  soon  caught ;  she  put  it  in 
her  apron  and  ran  back  home.  Great  was  her  joy  to  find 
that  her  baby  had  slept  all  the  time.  Her  pig  grew  some ; 
it  ran  in  the  road ;  she  fed  it  all  she  could  spare ;  in  the  fall 
there  was  some  corn  for  it.  The  crop  of  corn  was  not  large. 
In  that  country  little  grain  will  grow  without  manure.  At 
killing  time  their  hog  was  light  and  lean.  Two  or  three 
times  she  made  nut  cakes,  but  as  she  had  to  put  part  Indian 
meal  into  the  flour,  they  were  hard  and  heavy. 

In  the  summer  time  when  her  hens  got  into  the  oat  and 
rye  fields  they  laid  eggs.  There  was  a  wooded  hill  near  by; 
she  got  permission  to  pick  up  dead  wood ;  she  saved  some- 
thing by  getting  it.  Mr.  Ray  thought  he  did  not  make  any 
thing  by  raising  corn,  the  farmers  wanted  him  every  day, 
his  wages  were  sure.  It  was  little  he  got — little  is  really 


THE   SHEPHEED    OP   SALISBURY  PLAIN.  331 

required  in  this  world ;  it  is  here  we  are  to  prepare  for  the 
next ;  we  lose  all  if  we  are  not  prepared. 

Sometimes  Ruth  would  ask  him  if  there  was  no  better  way 
to  get  along.  It  was  hard  for  him  to  buy  flax,  wool,  bread 
meat,  every  thing.  He  could  think  of  no  way ;  why  should 
they  complain  ?  They  ought  to  be  thankful  that  their  lot 
was  cast  in  a  Christian  land  where  they  could  hear  the  gospel 
preached,  where  they  could  read  the  Bible  and  walk  in  the 
way  that  leads  to  life.  She  would  answer ;  to  be  sure  these 
were  great  privileges,  but  it  was  no  sin  to  have  comforts,  and 
were  not  certain  well-to-do  farmers  as  hopeful  of  salvation  as 
if  they  were  poor  ?  Of  course  they  were,  but  the  Lord  had 
seen  fit  he  should  be  a  poor  man ;  the  time  would  come  when 
they  would  see  this  was  best ;  they  would  be  tried  as  by  fire, 
and  if  they  were  faithful  to  the  end,  they  would  walk  the 
streets  of  the  New  Jerusalem,  they  would  wear  golden  crowns 
glittering  with  precious  stones ;  they  would  sing  the  song  of 
deliverance ;  no  more  sighing,  no  more  tears ;  they  would  be 
led  by  still  waters,  and  they  would  eat  bread  from  the  tree 
life. 

When  there  were  two  children,  Mr.  Ray  saw  he  must  earn 
more,  and  to  improve  the  stormy  days,  he  made  ax-helves, 
and  door-mats,  and  after  several  trials  he  made  baskets.  This 
was  quite  a  help.  After  this  there  was  another  child,  when, 
with  the  greatest  reluctance,  he  was  forced  to  give  less  to 
the  heathen.  He  said  he  was  sorry,  but  rich  men  must  give 
more.  Some  of  the  neighboring  women,  when  she  went  to 
get  work  would  press  her  to  eat,  and  if  it  was  not  meal  time 
they  brought  her  something  on  a  plate.  They  gave  her  to 
take  home  a  piece  of  meat,  a  loaf  or  a  pie,  and  their  nice  little 
girls  would  carry  the  children  baskets  of  red  apples.  When 
the  cold  winter  was  coming  on,  one  or  another  would  give  her 
pieces  of  flannel,  almost  as  good  as  new,  only  faded  a  little, 
to  make  dresses  for  her  children,  nor  did  they  forget  some 
wool  from  which  she  could  spin  stocking- yarn.  Their  hus- 
bands did  not  always  know  about  this. 

One  time  a  cousin  of  Ruth's,  who  lived  in  the  West,  came 


332  LIFE   IN  THE  WEST. 

to  Boston  with  some  cattle,  and  he  rode  out  to  sec  the  place 
where  he  lived  when  he  was  a  boy.  He  called  on  Ruth.  He 
Avas  a  large  fat  man,  using  many  curious  words ;  he  was 
good-natured,  and  he  gave  each  of  the  children  a  quarter  of 
a  dollar,  every  piece  smelling  strongly  of  tobacco.  He  said 
he  could  not  stay  long ;  he  wondered  how  the  people  got  a 
living,  and  he  was  bidding  her  good-bye,  when  she  asked 
him  what  kind  of  a  country  he  lived  in,  and  whether  her 
husband  could  not  do  better  there.  Best  country  in  the 
world,  just  the  place  for  a  poor  man,  for  he  could  get  land. 
Did  her  husband  want  to  go  ?  She  was  afraid  not ;  wTell  she 
had  better  persuade  him  to  go.  Should  they  come,  he  would 
see  they  had  a  place.  But  he  could  not  stay.  They  must 
write  if  they  were  coming. 

All  the  rest  of  the  day  Ruth  kept  repeating  to  herself  that 
they  could  get  land.  That  was  what  they  wanted.  If  they 
could  get  five  or  six  acres,  they  would  do  well.  Spinning, 
carding,  sewing  or  getting  supper,  she  said,  land,  land,  land. 

When  Mr.  Ray  came  home,  she  told  him  that  her  cousin 
said  they  could  get  land  out  west.  He  said  he  knew  it,  but 
it  was  sickly  there.  Perhaps  it  was  a  little,  but  had  he  not 
rather  be  sick  once  in  a  while  and  have  land  than  always  be 
so  poor  ?  Besides,  were  they  not  sick  where  they  were  ? 
poor  people  were  likely  to  be  sick.  More,  her  cousin  looked 
as  though  he  never  was  sick.  Yes,  yes,  but  how  were  they 
to  get  thither?  Since  he  had  been  married  he  had  not  had 
money  enough  to  take  the  journey.  Oh,  yes,  they  had ;  it 
was  put  in  the  contribution  box.  He  turned  sharply  around, 
as  if  she  was  a  tempter.  She  stopped  and  had  him  eat  his 
supper. 

A  woman  looks  at  many  things.  Principally,  she  considers 
what  will  become  of  her  children,  how  they  are  to  be  fed, 
clothed  and  schooled.  Will  they  be  respected — will  they  be 
tempted  and  end  their  lives  on  the  gallows,  or  in  the  peni- 
tentiary ? 

In  an  hour  or  so  she  commenced  again.  She  had  been 
thinking.  Would  it  not  be  better  to  stop  giving  to  the  hea- 


THE   SHEPHERD    OF   SALISBURY   PLAIN.  333 

then  a  year  or  so,  and  make  use  of  all  he  could  save  in  get- 
ting land,  for  when  he  got  it  he  could  give  more  in  one  year 
than  he  could  give  in  many  years  without  land.  It  was  his 
duty  to  lend  to  the  Lord ;  he  had  done  so ;  surely  now,  the 
Lord  would  be  willing  to  lend  to  him.  It  was  their  duty  to 
be  comfortable.  One  prayed  that  he  might  neither  be  rich 
nor  poor,  lest  he  should  be  proud  and  lest  he  should  steal. 
For  her  part  she  would  be  willing  to  work  till  she  died  if  she 
was  sure  her  children  would  be  respected.  If  they  did  not 
get  land,  the  time  would  soon  come  when  they  would  have 
to  put  out  their  children,  for  they  could  not  take  care  of 
them.  Who  could  tell  whether  they  would  fare  well  or  ill  ? 
Certainly  it  was  better  to  get  land  so  that  they  could  have 
their  children  with  them.  Whithersoever  they  might  go  the 
Lord  would  hear  them  in  mercy  and  look  down  on  them. 

She  said  more,  for  she  knew  what  to  say.  Her  words  had 
an  effect  on  him.  He  said  perhaps  they  might  go.  But  they 
must  be  more  saving  than  ever.  When  she  saw  she  had  the 
advantage,  she  found  out  where  her  cousin  lived.  It  was  in 
the  Kankakee  country,  and  she  wrote  to  him,  for  she  could 
write.  Yes,  he  could  get  land,  the  best  that  ever  lay  out 
doors ;  farm  hands  were  scarce ;  he  himself  would  hire ;  in 
a  year,  if  they  were  very  saving,  they  could  get  a  place. 

Surely  they  would  do  well,  and  if  the'land  was  rich,  as  he 
said,  they  could  raise  eighteen  or  twenty  bushels  of  corn  to 
the  acre.  If  they  had  eight  or  ten  acres,  and  five  were  in 
corn,  this  would  give  them  nearly  a  hundred  bushels,  which 
would  fatten  two  hogs  and  give  them  their  bread.  They 
could  keep  hens  that  would  lay,  and  have  ducks,  and  even 
geese.  They  would  have  three  or  four  sheep.  Perhaps,  if 
they  had  good  luck,  they  might  keep  a  cow  and  have  milk 
and  butter,  but  they  were  not  certain  about  this,  for  it  might 
be  that  they  would  be  obliged  to  get  a  horse  to  plow  with, 
and  he  would  eat  all-  the  corn-stalks.  Oh,  if  they  were  going 
to  have  a  horse,  that  would  be  grand  for  the  boys ;  and  they 
talked  about  riding  it  till  they  got  into  a  dispute  as  to  which 
should  ride  before  and  which  behind. 


334  LIFE   IN   THE   WEST. 

It  became  known  that  Mr.  Hay  talked  of  moving  west. 
He  was  told  he  would  repent  it.  He  would  lose  his  wife  and 
children,  and  be  happy  if  he  himself  could  get  back.  There 
were  such -and  such  men  who  went  to  the  Maumee  country, 
they  had  good  farms  when  they  left,  they  came  back  with 
nothing.  This  discouraged  him.  She  said  she  understood  it; 
they  wanted  his  work ;  they  got  rich  by  poor  men's  labor. 
There  was  her  cousin — what  was  the  matter  with  him  ? 
Maumee  might  be  a  good  or  bad  country — call  it  bad — they 
were  not  going  thither.  He  listened  to  her  and  determined 
he  would  go. 

On  a  cold  stormy  day  he  was  making  baskets,  and  one  of 
the  deacons  came  to  see  him.  The  Mission  of  Burmah  was 
greatly  in  need  of  money ;  last  Sunday  it  was  noticed  he 
gave  nothing ;  it  was  supposed  he  had  forgotten  to  bring  his 
money ;  he  had  called  that  he  might  have  the  pleasure  of 
giving  to  so  noble  a  charity.  Neither  Mr.  Ray  nor  his  wife 
said  a  word.  The  deacon  thought  it  strange,  he  hoped  Mr. 
Ray  was  not  going  to  faint  in  the  midst  of  the  harvest,  Avhile 
the  laborers  Avere  so  few.  The  poor  man  knew  not  what  to 
say  ;  with  a  stare  he  looked  at  his  wife.  Ruth  had  to  speak, 
she  did  not  know  what  would  be  the  result.  She  told  the 
deacon  to  look  at  her  children ;  some  of  them  had  shoes,  but 
none  of  them  had  clothes  so  that  they  could  go  to  school. 
She  had  made  them  caps  out  of  strips  of  black  and  red  flannel, 
high  and  warm  caps — she  remembered  when  they  used  to  be 
worn,  but  the  boys  called  them  night-caps.  Her  children 
were  not  heathen,  but  if  every  body  was  as  poor  as  they  it 
would  make  a  heathen  country.  They  had  made  up  their  minds 
to  go  west  and  get  land.  They  must  save  their  money. 
The  deacon  wished  they  would  do  well,  but  it  was  a  veiy 
hazardous  step.  He  hoped  they  would  not  gather  to  them- 
selves the  mammon  of  unrighteousness.  Ruth  had  a  sharp 
reply  on  her  lips.  She  did  not  dare  to  utter  it,  for  his  wife 
had  been  most  kind  to  her,  and  her  husband  worked  for  him. 

It  is  hard  to  tell  how  saving  Ruth  was.  She  demanded 
every  cent  of  money  he  got  and  put  it  away.  Half  a  pound 


THE    SHEPHERD    OF    SALISBURY    PLAIN.  335 

of  tea  used  to  last  them  six  months — she  made  rye  and  crust 
coffee  instead.  Father  must  have  butter,  he  cannot  work 
unless  he  have  a  plenty  to  eat ;  the  rest  must  go  without. 
The  farmers'  wives  let  them  have  skimmed  milk.  Sometimes 
it  had  not  stood  long.  She  and  the  children  could  eat  johnny- 
cake  and  milk.  It  was  good  enough ;  it  would  stay  in  the 
mouth  and  have  a  sweet  taste  longer  than  meat.  No  more 
buying  any  thing  at  the  store,  no  laying  out  money  for  any 
thing — father  must  get  what  is  wanted  where  he  cannot  get 
money.  They  could  not  even  afford  to  be  sick ;  if  they  were, 
they  must  go  without  a  doctor.  If  one  found  fault  with  the 
victuals,  he  was  to  go  without  till  he  liked  it.  If  their  clothes 
were  ragged,  they  must  be  patched — it  was  patch  upon  patch. 
Think  of  the  poor  heathen  with  only  a  cloth  around  the  mid- 
dle. If  there  was  work  to  do,  they  must  work  with  all  their 
might.  Think  of  the  little  slave  who  labors  in  the  sun. 

The  time  came  when  they  were  to  start  west.  Their  last 
Sunday  at  church  was  an  affecting  season.  Letters  were  re- 
quested for  Bryan  Ray  and  his  wife.  All  eyes  were  turned 
towards  them.  When  meeting  was  out  the  whole  congrega- 
tion took  them  by  the  hand  and  bade  them  farewell.  The 
wide  benevolence  of  the  rich  farmers'  wives  had  clothed  their 
children  in  plain  and  good  garments.  They  felt  that  it  was 
no  more  than  due  to  one  who  had  labored  on  their  farms 
so  faithfully  and  long. 

The  next  day  they  started ;  all  their  furniture  had  been 
sold  ;  their  clothing  was  in  two  dry  goods'  boxes.  They  had 
sixty  dollars — a  small  sum  for  such  a  long  journey.  For 
eight  dollars  a  man  carried  them  to  Albany.  Then  they 
took  the  canal,  and  arriving  at  Buffalo  they  went  on  board  a 
steamer  bound  for  Chicago.  They  were  surprised,  after  trav- 
eling so  far  to  find  a  city  fully  as  large  as  any  on  their  route. 
It  was  fortunate  that  their  cousin  found  them  the  first  clay. 
He  had  come  up  with  several  wagons  loaded  with  grain. 
There  was  no  railroad  then.  So  saving  had  they  been  that 
a  few  dollars  were  left. 

While  they  were  riding  along,  Mrs.  Ray  heard  her  bus- 


336  LIFE   IN   THE  WEST. 

band  repeating,  it  could  not  be  done ;  not  all  the  men  in 
the  country  with  all  the  cattle  could  do  it.  "Do  what? 
Get  manure  enough  to  make  the  ground  black  like  that,  and 
so  many  miles.  Their  cousin  had  a  large  farm  and  a  long 
one-story,  unpainted  house,  with  porches  on  each  side.  The 
kitchen  was  very  long  and  had  a  fire-place.  There  was  tim- 
ber near  the  house  and  a  nice  stream  running  into  the  Kan- 
kakee.  There  were  two  or  three  large  fields,  the  rest  was 
open  prairie.  Their  cousin  had  several  hundred  head  of 
cattle  and  fifteen  hundred  sheep. 

He  had  a  house  ready  for  them ;  it  was  not  much  better 
than  their  old  one.  Things  looked  rough,  but  all  was  in 
such  plenty  that  the  place  was  like  a  fat  man  laughing 
as  loud  as  he  could.  Ruth  did  the  talking.  They  were 
here,  what  were  they  going  to  do  ?  how  would  they  live  ? 
they  had  no  money,  no  property.  Living  was  nothing. 
Her  husband  might  work  for  him  till  spring ;  by  that  time 
he  would  find  out  what  manner  of  man  he  was.  If  he  was 
the  right  kind,  he  could  earn  enough  to  buy  a  forty.  He 
had  heard  he  was  good  to  work.  He  knew  of  a  forty  with 
some  timber  that  was  number  one.  He  would  keep  his  eye 
on  it,  but  there  were  plenty  more.  Ruth  asked  what  he 
meant  by  a  forty.  Why,  a  lot  of  forty  acres.  But  that 
would  cost  so  much.  What !  is  fifty  dollars  much  ?  Maybe 
they  could  get  it.  They  had  not  expected  to  get  more  than 
five  or  ten  acres.  Nonsense ;  forty  acres  was  only  a  garden 
spot.  Mr.  Ray  said  he  would  do  what  he  could ;  he  might 
not  understand  the  way  they  worked.  Much  would  de- 
pend on  what  his  wages  were.  The  cousin  would  give  him 
twenty  dollars  a  month,  he  boarding  himself;  but  that  would 
cost  little — corn  was  fifteen  cents ;  wheat,  forty  cents ;  pork, 
two  cents ;  beef,  less.  They  asked  if  they  understood  him. 
Certainly.  Then  they  could  get  a  forty.  They  knew  they 
could. 

Ruth  wanted  to  know  who  owned  all  that  high  grass  with 
no  fence  around  it.  That  was  all  government  land ;  he  kept 
his  stock  on  it  without  costing  a  cent,  and  he  cut  a  hundred 


THE   SHEPHERD   OF   SALISBURY   PLAIX.  337 

tons  of  hay.  If  this  was  so,  maybe  they  had  better  try  and 
buy  a  cow  if  she  did  not  cost  too  rnuc-h.  They  had  some 
money ;  maybe  she  could  pay  the  rest  herself ;  she  could 
card,  spin  and  weave.  She  would  do  most  anything.  They 
had  wanted  one  ever  since  their  first  child  was  w^eaned.  Oh, 
that  they  could  get  a  cow !  Could  she  milk  ?  Oh,  yes ; 
when  she  was  a  girl  she  milked  six  cows  night  and  morning. 
She  always  had  to  break  the  heifers.  That  was  lucky.  He 
had  a  heifer  just  come  in ;  he  would  make  her  a  present  of 
it.  He  was  so  good,  but  she  would  pay  for  it.  N"o,  not  a 
cent.  They  had  cows  enough ;  more  than  they  made  good 
use  of. 

They  went  to  housekeeping.  They  borrowed  some  things 
and  did  without  many.  Ruth  bought  some  milk-jars  and 
set  her  milk  in  her  cousin's  spring-house.  Every  day  she 
looked  at  it,  to  see  what  kind  of  a  cow  she  was  going  to  be. 
It  was  a  great  day  when  she  borrowed  a  churn,  and  churned 
and  brought  butter.  The  children  crowded  around  and 
peeped  in  to  see  it.  Oh,  what  a  noble  cow,  her  butter  is  so 
yellow,  and  how  much  there  is ! 

Mr.  Ray  showed  himself  a  good  farmer,  and  so  faithful,  so 
careful  and  so  saving,  that  before  fall  his  cousin,  on  going 
away,  as  he  often  did,  left  him  in  charge.  In  a  short  time 
he  found  out  where  the  church  members  were.  The  church 
was  very  weak,  and  Mr.  Ray  was  warmly  welcomed.  He 
gave  them  new  life. 

On  new  year's  day,  his  cousin  took  him  across  the  prairie 
three  or  four  miles  to  where  the  Kankakee  makes  a  bend, 
and  he  showed  him  the  forty.  There  were  nearly  ten  acres 
of  heavy  timber  running  down  to  the  rocky  bed  of  the 
Kankakee.  The  rest  was  most  beautiful  prairie.  Then  he 
handed  him  a  deed  for  it  in  Mr.  Ray's  name.  That  night, 
first  of  the  new  year,  was  the  most  joyful  in  their  whole 
lives.  Struggling  long,  often  nearly  ready  to  sink,  they  had 
got  land.  Not  less  joyful  is  the  shipwrecked  mariner  when 
he  touches  land. 

I  need  not  tell  how  they  progressed  and  prospered.  This 
15 


338  LIFE   IX    THE   WEST. 

would  require  another  narrative.  Here,  in  the  West,  thou- 
sands, though  few  as  poor,  have  made  blooming  homes  from 
the  wilderness  and  the  prairie.  Now,  one  sees  the  house 
they  were  at  last  able  to  build.  It  is  two  stories,  with  a 
long  kitchen,  and  wood-shed  in  the  rear.  The  green  blinds, 
the  barns,  the  other  buildings,  and  the  large  orchard,  remind 
one  of  a  New  England  home. 

When  the  travelling  preacher  or  missionary  comes  into 
this  section  he  always  stops  with  Deacon  Ray.  No  one 
gives  so  liberally  as  he  to  religious  charities.  He  is  con- 
vinced that  he  is  none  the  poorer  for  these  gifts,  and  that,  if 
he  withholds  his  hand,  he  will  suffer  by  losses  of  stock  or 
short  crops. 

Ruth  is  sure  to  hear  of  destitute  families.  When  they 
call  on  her  she  presses  them  to  cat ;  if  it  is  not  meal-time 
she  brings  them  something  on  a  plate,  and  she  gives  them 
to  take  home  a  piece  of  meat,  a  loaf  or  a  pie,  and  baskets  of 
red  apples.  When  the  cold  winter  is  coming  on  she  gives 
them  pieces  of  flannel  almost  as  good  as  new,  only  a  little 
faded,  to  make  dresses  for  their  children,  nor  does  she  forget 
some  wool  from  which  they  can  spin  stocking  yarn.  Mr.  Ray 
does  not  always  know  about  this. 

Once  a  year  their  oldest  son  comes  home  to  see  them. 
He  is  a  grain-merchant  in  Chicago.  In  telling  how  he  gets 
along,  he  speaks  of  little  things.  He  is  liked  in  every  respect 
except  in  one — he  finds  fault  with  the  men  when  they  waste 
grain,  and  when  they  see  him  picking  up  kernels  of  corn  they 
smile.  His  father  commends  his  saving  habits,  and  shows 
him  that  he  owes  much  of  his  success  to  it.  Frequently  the 
deacon  speaks  of  himself;  and  gives  the  result  of  his  conclu- 
sions regarding  one's  duties  to  his  Creator  and  to  his  fellow- 
man,  which  is :  when  the  power  to  do  good,  when  health,  edu- 
cation and  the  advancement  of  mankind  are  considered,  no 
Christian  for  a  moment  should  be  contented  to  lead  a  life 
like  that  of  the  Shepherd  of  Salisbury  Plain. 


A    DESCRIPTION 


MISSISSIPPI  VALLEY. 


TTTHEN  the  Mississippi  Valley  is  mentioned,  it  is  under- 
I  j  stood  to  include  the  whole  country  between  the  Alle- 
ghany  and  the  Rocky  Mountains,  and  between  the  greater 
part  of  the  chain  of  great  lakes  and  the  Gulf  of  Mexico,  mak- 
ing a  region  running  1,400  miles  northwest,  and  from  1,000  to 
1,400  miles  southwest.  The  States  and  Territories  lying 
within  this  valley  are  generally  stated  as  follows :  Western 
Pennsylvania,  West  Virginia,  Ohio,  Indiana,  Illinois,  Wiscon- 
sin, Minnesota,  Iowa,  Missouri,  Kansas,  Nebraska,  Montana, 
Dakota,  Kentucky,  Tennessee,  Arkansas,  Mississippi  and  Lou- 
isiana. Not  the  whole  of  all  these  States  lie  within  this  val- 
ley, but  there  are  many  streams  coming  from  several  States 
not  mentioned  which  flow  into  it.  Properly,  a  valley  has  a 
rich,  alluvial  soil.  The  parts  of  this  valley  having  such  a  soil 
are  the  valley  of  the  Ohio  river,  and  the  valleys  of  its  tribu- 
taries extending  into  Western  Pennsylvania ;  the  bottoms  of 
all  the  streams  in  Ohio,  except  of  the  few  flowing  into  Lake1 
Erie,  several  small  prairies  in  this  State,  the  extensive  river 
bottoms  of  the  Wabash  and  White  rivers  in  Indiana,  the  whole 
of  the  State  of  Illinois,  except  a  fraction  of  hilly  country  in  the 
southern  part,  much  of  Wisconsin,  seven-eighths  of  Minne- 
sota, almost  the  whole  of  Iowa,  Nebraska  and  Kansas,  North 
and  West  Missouri,  a  part  of  Arkansas,  a  tenth  of  Kentucky, 
less  of  Tennessee,  an  eighth  of  Mississippi,  and  fully  three- 

(339) 


340  LIFE  IX  THE  WEST. 

fourths  of  Louisiana.  Very  little  of  the  country  south  of  the 
mouth  of  the  Ohio  river  is  prairie;  very  little  north  of  it,  and 
west  of  Indiana,  is  wooded. . 

The  soil  of  the  prairies  is  remarkably  dark;  when  properly 
managed,  it  is  as  soft  and  productive  as  the  very  choicest  gar- 
den mould,  and  it  varies  from  one  foot  to  two  feet,  and  even 
to  six  feet  in  depth.  Generally,  in  the  northern  section  it  is 
deeper  and  richer  than  in  the  southern.  The  extent  of  these 
prairies  is  about  six  hundred  miles  square.  They  lie  a  little 
southeast  of  the  centre  of  the  continent,  and  they  are  in  the 
heart  of  the  Mississippi  Valley. 

In  estimating  the  value  of  a  country,  every  important  fact 
having  universal  application  should  be  stated.  I  claim  to 
have  discovered,  that  in  that  part  of  Xorth  America,  extend- 
ing as  far  west  as  it  is  moistened  by  summer  showers,  a  dis- 
tance of  1 ,600  miles,  there  is  a  belt  of  limited  width,  better 
suited  to  the  natural  and  tame  grasses  than  in  any  part  north 
or  south  of  it ;  and  that  with  each  mile  of  departure  from  this 
belt,  these  grasses  grow  with  greater  difficulty,  till  at  last 
they  nearly  disappear.  This  belt  is  five  degrees,  or  300  miles 
wide,  and  the  centre  of  it  is  in  42£  degrees  of  north  latitude. 
While  the  region  north  of  42|  degrees  is  much  wider  than 
on  the  south,  there  are  conditions  in  the  south  which  make 
the  two  equal.  An  felevated  region  will  correspond  to  a 
higher  degree  of  latitude.  For  this  reason,  West  Virginia, 
Eastern  Kentucky  and  the  Cumberland  table  land,  West  Mis- 
souri and  Kansas  are  suited  to  the  grasses.  A  particular 
kind  of  soil  is  also  equal  to  a  higher  latitude,  as  in  the  Blue 
Grass  region  of  Central  Kentucky.  On  the  other  hand,  a 
sandy,  light  soil,  by  reason  of  its  warmth  and  porous  nature, 
will  produce  results  corresponding  to  a  lower  latitude ;  and 
with  respect  to  the  grasses,  the  difference  may  be  as  great  as 
five,  or  even  more  degrees.  The  best  grass  land  has  a  rich 
clay  soil,  and  such  a  soil  two  or  three  degrees  south  of  42£ 
degrees  will  be  equal,  if  not  superior,  to  a  sandy  soil  two  or 
three  degrees  north  of  it.  An  acre  of  land  on  which  grass 
grows  naturally,  is  at  least  double  the  value  of  an  acre  on 


THE  MISSISSIPPI  VALLEY.  341 

which  it  grows  with  difficulty ;  and  it  has  the  additional  value 
of  retaining  its  fertility,  while  the  other  is  quickly  impover- 
ished. To  this  we  must  except  valleys,  which  are  sustained 
at  the  expense  of  the  uplands. 

The  southern  line  of  the  region  natural  for  grass  passes 
through,  or  very  near  the  following  cities :  Philadelphia,  Co- 
lumbus, Indianapolis,  Springfield,  and  Atchison,  Kansas,  but 
Lawrence  may  be  said  to  be  on  this  line,  owing  to  its  eleva- 
tion. The  centre  of  the  grass  belt  is  on  the  line  of  the  fol- 
lowing cities :  Boston,  Albany,  Rochester,  Buffalo,  Cleveland, 
Detroit,  Chicago,  Davenport  and  Rock  Island,  DCS  Moines 
and  Omaha.  Although  Rochester  and  Buffalo  are  geograph- 
ically north  of  this  line,  they  are  to  be  placed  upon  it,  because, 
feeling  the  influence  of  the  waters  of  Lake  Ontario,  which 
seldom  freeze,  they  are  removed  a  degree  south  by  the  higher 
temperature.  The  lines  of  traffic,  the  many  cities  and  towns, 
and  the  intelligence  of  the  people,  are  the  natural  growth  of 
the  grass  belt.  Incidentally,  it  may  be  mentioned  that  white 
clover,  a  species  of  grass,  furnishes  abundant  food  for  bees;  and 
it  is  here  the  largest  amount  of  honey  is  produced.  Whether 
the  grass  belt  is  more  natural  for  fruit  may  be  questioned. 
Still,  orchards  and  vineyards  are  more  profitable  here  than 
elsewhere.  Perhaps  this  arises  mainly  from  the  condition  of 
the  people,  for  fruit  is  cultivated  by  those  whose  tastes  are 
refined,  and  by  those  who  gain  their  bread  with  ease ;  never 
by  those  who  live  in  hovels  and  on  poor  food,  uncertain  in 
supply  and  difficult  to  obtain. 

Whatever  may  be  true  as  to  the  locality  in  which  the  po- 
tato is  alleged  first  to  have  been  found,  it  is  certainly  pro- 
duced in  large  quantities  and  of  finest  quality  only  in  a  cold 
climate.  I  would  therefore  fix  the  line  on  which  it  succeeds 
best  on  the  45th  parallel ;  that  is,  where  grass  grows  finest 
and  makes  the  densest  sod,  though  not  most  abundantly ; 
this  will  be  through  Maine,  Northern  New  York,  Canada, 
Northern  Michigan,  Central  Wisconsin  and  Minnesota,  and 
Dakota  and  Montana.  Here  snow  falls  early  and  deep,  it 
lingers  late,  and  the  ground  freezes  but  little.  Around  Macki- 


342  LIFE   IN   THE    WEST. 

naw  the  Indian  has  raised  the  potato  for  an  unknown  period ; 
it  is  still  his  chief  food ;  nor  does  he  save  seed,  for  the  root  is 
a  perennial,  and  like  an  evergreen.  It  is  highly  probable 
that  Europeans  derived  the  seed  from  the  Aborigines  of 
Nova  Scotia,  and  not  from  a  warm  climate,  where  even  with 
the  culture  given  by  the  white  man  it  is  barely  retained. 

WESTERN    PENNSYLVANIA. 

The  whole  of  Western  Pennsylvania  lies  in  the  Mississippi 
Valley,  though  only  small  portions  have  the  character  of  a 
valley.  It  is  decidedly  a  mineral  region ;  bituminous  coal,  iron 
and  limestone  abound  ;  and  many  railroads  converge  at  Pitts- 
burgh, a  citv  more  largely  engaged  in  staple  manufactures 
than  any  other  in  America.  North  of  this  city  and  on  the 
Alleghany  and  its  tributaries  are  the  oil  wells,  which  are  the 
wonders  of  our  time.  On  the  western  border  of  this  State  is 
a  level  strip  of  country,  thirty  miles  wide  and  sixty  miles 
long,  running  north  and  south.  It  extends  into  Ohio,  and 
stretches  far  westward.  This  is  the  eastern  boundary  of  the 
Mississippi  Valley. 

WEST   VIRGINIA. 

This  is  a  mountainous  and  mineral  region ;  there  are  some 
oil  wells,  and  on  the  Kanawha  river  large  quantities  of  salt 
are  made,  and  sent  to  many  of  the  river  States  below.  Much 
of  the  country  is  undeveloped,  and  in  remote  sections  land 
can  be  had  cheap.  Some  of  the  hilly  region  has  a  soil  com- 
posed of  decayed  limestone,  giving  it  remarkable  strength, 
and  frequently  it  produces  crops  of  grain  superior  to  the 
valley  of  the  Ohio.  Owing  to  this  fact,  and  to  the  elevation 
above  the  sea,  West  Virginia  is  a  favored  grass  region.  In 
the  settlement  of  any  country,  the  quality  in  which  it  is  su- 
perior is  sure  to  be  developed  first.  Hence  this  State  has 
long  been  noted  for  fine-wooled  sheep.  This  State  extends 
through  the  latitude  of  Central  and  Southern  Ohio  and 
almost  the  whole  of  Kentucky.  They  who  \vould  be  pio- 
neers in  a  rough  country,  who  have  self-reliance,  and  who 
value  majestic  scenes  and  solitude,  where  bread  and  health 


THE  MISSISSIPPI   VALLEY.  343 

will  be  sure,  can  find  beautiful  rural  homes  for  little  money 
in  this  new  and  rising  State. 

OHIO. 
Square  miles,  39,964,  or  25,576,900  acres.    Population  about  2,500,000. 

This  is  one  of  the  choicest  States  in  the  Union.  Except  in 
a  limited  region  on  its  northwestern  border,  it  is  mostly 
under  cultivation,  and  farms  are  valued  at  from  $25  to  $150 
an  acre.  The  length  of  the  Lake  Erie  shore  is  236  miles,  of 
the  Ohio  River  shore,  672  miles.  Along  the  Lake  shore  for 
eighty  miles  are  two  tiers  of  counties,  some  ten  in  number, 
known  as  the  Connecticut  Western  Reserve,  which,  being 
within  the  grass  region,  have  been  noted  from  the  first  settle- 
ment for  dairy  products.  A  strip  along  the  Lake  shore, 
about  three  miles  wide,  is  favorable  for  all  kinds  of  grapes, 
particularly  for  the  Catawba,  and  this,  in  connection  with  the 
islands,  is,  as  far  as  now  known,  the  best  grape  region  in 
America ;  though  perhaps  parts  of  California  may  be  ex- 
cepted.  The  Western  Reserve  is  about  forty  miles  wide 
from  north  to  south,  and  across  it  run  several  small  rivers, 
which  empty  into  the  lake.  Interlocking  with  the  heads  of 
these,  arc  a  great  many  small  streams  forming  the  headwaters 
of  the  Muskingum,  the  Scioto,  and  the  Little  and  Big  Miamis, 
which  empty  into  the  Ohio  river.  These  streams  arise  from 
beautiful  springs,  and  the  country  through  which  they  run  is 
in  places  undulating,  and  in  others  level.  Here  is  a  part  of 
the  northern  boundary  of  the  Mississippi  Valley.  The  soil  is 
of  sand,  gravel  and  loam,  rich  and  easy  to  till ;  it  is  especially 
adapted  to  wheat,  and  to  most  kinds  of  fruit ;  it  is  a  fair  graz- 
ing region,  and  during  thirty  years  the  farms  have  paid  for 
themselves  many  times  in  various  productions.  There  are 
mines  of  coal  and  iron,  and  wood  is  abundant. 

Taking  into  account  these  things,  as  well  as  the  health  of 
the  country  and  accessibility  by  railroads,  this  must  be  con- 
sidered the  most  favored  region  on  this  continent.  When 
the  prairie  States  shall  be  planted  with  groves,  they  will  be 
superior. 


344  LIFE   IX   THE   WEST. 

Further  south,  the  country  is  more  diversified;  in  the 
neighborhood  of  the  Ohio  river  it  becomes  hilly,  and  is 
similar  to  West  Virginia;  but  in  the  vicinity  of  the  interior 
rivers,  the  land  declines  into  broad  and  extremely  fertile 
valleys.  Here  is  the  centre  of  the  corn  region,  and  large 
numbers  of  hogs  and  cattle  are  fattened  for  the  Eastern 
markets.  In  the  southwest  corner  of  the  State  is  the  flour- 
ishing city  of  Cincinnati,  lai'gely  interested  in  commerce, 
merchandise,  and  almost  every  variety  of  manufactures.  This 
State  is  not  excelled  in  the  extent  and  number  of  its  rail- 
roads. The  northwestern  part  is  level  and  inclined  to  be 
swampy,  and  there  are  large  districts,  so  to  speak,  where  the 
original  forest  remains,  and  the  few  settlers  are  struggling 
with  the  difficulties  common  to  pioneer  life. 


Square  miles,  33,809,  or  20,673,760  acres.    Population  over  1,500,000. 

Here,  as  in  Ohio,  is  the  same  interlocking  of  streams 
which  run  into  the  lake  and  into  the  Ohio.  The  State  is 
rather  more  level  than  Ohio.  A  large  part  of  the  State 
is  drained  through  broad  and  exceedingly  rich  valleys  of 
the  Wabash  and  White  rivers.  Beyond  Fort  Wayne  one 
will  find  much  of  the  primeval  forest,  among  which  are  new 
farms,  while,  in  localities  remote  from  lines  of  transportation, 
new  land  can  be  purchased  from  eight  to  ten  dollars  an 
acre,  but  such  will  have  few  or  no  improvements.  Many  of 
the  forests  are  rich  in  black-walnut  timber;  saw-mills  are 
frequent,  and  immense  quantities  of  this  lumber  are  shipped 
to  New  York,  Boston  and  Europe,  selling  at  from  $25  to 
$35  per  thousand  on  the  railroad  or  Wabash  and  Erie  Canal. 
Dealers  go  thither  from  the  East  to  buy  this  lumber  the 
same  as  others  go  to  buy  wool  or  wheat.  The  northern 
part,  from  Fort  Wayne  to  Chicago,  requires  more  settlers, 
and  when  developed  it  cannot  fail  to  have  immense  resources. 
The  central  portion  is  better  settled.  On  a  line  west  from 
Central  Ohio  the  improvements  are  good,  and  there  are  many 
flourishing  towns.  The  capital  (Indianapolis)  is  active  with 


THE  MISSISSIPPI  VALLEY.  345 

business,  and  there  is  no  interior  town  in  our  country  to 
which  so  many  railroads  converge.  In  wide  sections  the 
land  is  so  level  as  to  be  monotonous,  even  where  remote 
from  streams,  and  there  is  much  of  what  may  be  termed  a 
white-oak  or  wheat  soil.  In  the  southern  part  are  many  hills 
and  knolls,  alternating  with  level  stretches,  even  near  to  the 
Ohio  river,  and  all  this  section  is  wrell  adapted  to  particular 
varieties  of  fruit.  There  are  some  prairies  in  this  State,  and 
on  the  northern  borders  some  are  very  beautiful,  well  tilled, 
and  highly  valued,  but  none  are  very  large,  and  for  this 
reason  they  are  very  desirable.  The  far  greater  part  of  the 
State  is  level  like  a  prairie,  and  presents  all  the  characteristics 
of  a  valley. 

ILLINOIS. 
Square  miles,  55,405,  or  35,459,203  acres.    Population  over  2,500,000. 

After  one  crosses  the  rich  valley  of  the  "Wabash,  and  rising, 
generally,  a  slight  eminence,  the  prairies  break  into  view. 
Even  if  one  crosses  so  low  dowrn  as  Vincennes,  the  prairie 
will  stretch,  with  here  and  there  a  few  belts  and  groves,  to  the 
streets  of  Chicago,  and  to  the  north  and  east  across  the  Missis- 
sippi, the  Missouri,  through  Iowa,  North  Missouri,  Nebraska, 
Kansas,  Colorado  and  Dakota,  till  at  last  the  pine  forests  of 
the  Rocky  Mountains  appear.  Of  the  appearance  of  these 
prairies  little  more  can  be  said  than  that  they  present  a 
vast  expanse  of  gently  rolling  country,  entirely  destitute  of 
trees,  with  streams  from  five  to  twenty  miles  apart,  having 
a  fringe  of  timber  along  their  banks,  and  an  occasional  grove, 
generally  on  ground  considerably  above  the  general  level. 
The  prairies  of  Illinois  are  of  two  distinct  kinds.  One  kind  is 
similar  to  black  muck,  with  more  or  less  admixture  of  sand. 
The  black  color  seems  to  be  derived  from  soot  of  burned 
grass;  the  sand  is  more  manifest  on  ridges,  and  when  there 
is  drainage  by  which  the  black  has  leached  out,  and  the  color 
inclines  to  red  or  purple.  This  of  the  two  is  most  desirable. 
The  line  of  black  prairie  commences  at  about  39£  degrees,  or 
on  the  line  of  Terre  Haute,  and  thence  westward,  including 
15* 


346  LIFE  IX  THE  WEST. 

all  of  Illinois,  most  of  Wisconsin,  Minnesota,  Iowa,  North 
Missouri,  Kansas,  etc.  North  of  this  line,  commences  the 
corn  region,  and  it  extends  to  forty-one  degrees,  being  about 
one  hundred  miles  Avide.  Although  good  corn  is  raised  both 
north  and  south  of  this  line,  still  here  this  grain  uniformly 
yields  well,  while  on  either  side,  north  and  south,  the  produc- 
tion diminishes  with  each  mile  till  at  last,  in  a  hot  climate, 
and  in  a  cold  one,  it  ceases  to  be  grown.  Still,  some  corn  is 
raised  within  the  tropics,  for  it  requires  heat,  and  its  culture 
is  extended  southward  beyond  its  true  region,  the  same  as 
grass  extends  northward,  each  unequally  spreading  from  the 
centre,  but  unless  in  elevated  localities,  the  amount  of  corn 
produced  within  the  tropics  is  insignificant.  Even  no  further 
south  than  the  cotton  States,  it  does  not  yield  more  than 
one-third  of  a  full  crop. 

Upon  the  southern  boundary  of  the  corn  region,  and  of  the 
black  prairie,  commences  another  kind  of  prairie.  This  is  of 
a  light,  almost  chalky  color,  with  an  inconsiderable  depth, 
often  near  a  hard  pan,  while  in  places  there  are  patches  of 
"  scalds,"  of  small  extent,  which  are  utterly  barren.  Even  in 
the  black  prairie  these  scalds  are  sometimes  found,  and  they 
are  indicated  by  a  growth  of  thin  fine  grass.  This  prairie 
extends  southward  about  one  hundred  miles,  when  the  ground 
rises  into  ridges  divided  by  small  streams,  with  a  large  por- 
tion of  tillable  land,  all  originally  wooded  with  a  heavy 
growth  of  oak,  tulip,  hickory,  gum,  cypress,  etc.  It  is  a  the- 
ory that  the  black  prairie  was  formed  by  a  drift  from  a  lime- 
stone region  far  to  the  north,  and  that  it  subsided  from  a  still 
lake  on  the  line  of  39-J-  degrees ;  and  that  the  light  colored 
prairie  was  formed  by  a  deposit  of  sand  and  clay  held  in  a 
solution  by  the  waters  of  the  Missouri  river,  which  crossed 
the  Mississippi  and  lapped  evenly  upon  the  black  prairie. 
The  line  of  separation  is  so  distinct,  as  in  places  to  be  marked 
by  the  eye,  and  in  plowing  a  field  across  the  line  the  plow- 
man feels  the  difference  in  the  draught,  for  the  light  soil  has 
greater  resistance.  This  light  prairie  is  natxiral  for  winter 
wheat,  and  as  St.  Louis  lies  iu  the  centre  of  a  verv  large  re- 


THE  MISSISSIPPI   VALLEY.  347 

gion  of  this  description,  it  has  become  celebrated  for  its  supe- 
rior flour.  All  kinds  of  fruit  do  well,  and  Southern  Illinois 
is  marked  upon  maps  as  the  "  Fruit  Region." 

"Where  such  a  vast  body  of  land  is  without  timber,  there 
would  be  great  obstacles  as  to  its  settlement  if  there  was  no 
compensation.  It  is  estimated  that  the  coal  field  underlying 
three-fourths  of  the  prairie,  and  ceasing  to  be  found  where 
the  timber  grows,  is  the  largest  bed  of  the  bituminous  variety 
in  the  world ;  that  is,  35,000  square  miles,  and  averaging  in 
the  thickness  of  the  deposit  fifteen  feet. 

At  Galena  are  lead  mines  of  great  richness,  which,  so  far 
as  yet  discovered,  contain  better  defined  and  permanent  leads 
than  exist  anywhere  else  in  America.  Some  have  asserted  that 
they  have  been  mostly  exhausted,  but  it  is  doubtful  whether 
they  are  more  than  fairly  opened,  for  the  deepest  shafts  do 
not  exceed  one  hundred  and  twenty  feet,  while  English  mines 
in  the  same  kind  of  rock  have  been  worked  a  thousand  feet, 
and,  in  one  case,  under  the  bed  of  the  ocean  itself.  A  con- 
siderable part  of  these  mines  lie  in  Wisconsin.  There  are 
inconsiderable  lead  mines  in  the  southern  part  of  the  State 
along  the  Ohio  river,  found  in  the  lower  magnesia  lime-stone, 
while  the  Galena  mines  are  in  the  upper. 

Unimproved  land  can  be  had  in  Illinois  as  low  as  five  dol- 
lars an  acre,  which  will  be  remote  from  railroads,  though  not 
distant  from  prospective  ones,  mostly  in  the  southern  part. 
Near  railroads  it  is  from  ten  to  forty  dollars,  and  improved 
farms  vary  from  twelve  to  one  hundred  and  fifty  dollars  an 
acre.  The  higher  prices  are  in  the  central  and  northern  part. 
Well  improved  farms  with  orchards,  good  buildings,  near 
towns,  schools  and  stations  can  be  had  from  half  to  two- 
thirds  less  than  farms  of  the  same  class  can  be  purchased  in 
the  Eastern  States,  while  the  soil  is  far  superior.  The  rent- 
ing of  land  is  practised  by  enterprising  young  men,  and  by 
men  who  have  little  energy.  It  is  a  disgrace  there  not  to 
own  land. 


348  LIFE   IN   THE   WEST. 

WISCONSIN. 

Square  miles,  53,924,  or  34,511,360  acres.    Population  about  1,000,000. 

Nearly  two  hundred  miles  of  this  State  form  the  western 
shore  of  Lake  Michigan,  and  a  much  greater  line  is  on  the 
Mississippi  river.  The  lake  shore  is  sandy  and  monotonous  ; 
the  river  scenery  is  beautiful  and  sublime.  In  the  interior, 
and  north,  are  many  lakes  from  one  mile  to  thirty  miles  in 
extent,  abounding  with  fish.  There  is  supposed  to  be  no 
coal,  as  the  limestone  which  lies  below  it  comes  to  the  sur- 
face ;  but  there  is  a  plenty  of  peat.  The  lead  mines  are  in  the 
southwest  corner  of  the  State,  and  are  four  hundred  square 
miles  in  extent.  In  addition,  some  are  recently  reported  in 
the  central  part  of  the  State.  These  mines  have  been  very 
productive,  and  still  are  worked  with  profit,  while  new  leads 
are  frequently  announced ;  but  in  most  of  these  water  is  an 
obstruction,  and  heavy  outlays  are  required  to  remove  it. 

From  the  southern  part  of  Green  Bay  a  line  may  be  drawn 
directly  southwest  to  the  Mississippi  river,  and  a  triangle 
will  be  formed,  within  which  the  greater  part  of  the  popula- 
tion of  the  State  is  to  be  found,  though  there  is  a  tier  of  coun- 
ties up  the  river  well  settled.  The  remainder  of  the  State,  or 
fully  one-half,  lying  in  the  interior,  and  a  considerable  portion 
of  it  wooded,  is  new,  and  though  the  climate  is  cold,  there 
are  sufficient  resources  to  sustain  more  people  than  many  sec- 
tions with  a  milder  climate. 

MINNESOTA. 

Square  miles,  83,581,  or  53,491,840.  Population  in  1850,  6,037  ;  1860, 
172,000. 

This  is  the  most  northern  of  our  States,  and  it  reaches  as 
high  as  forty-eight  degrees.  It  joins  Penembra,  in  British 
America,  and  on  the  east,  lies  north  of  the  western  arm  of 
Lake  Superior.  The  Mississippi  runs  through  a  large  portion, 
so  also  the  Minnesota  river,  and  a  considerable  part  of  its 
western  boundary  is  the  Red  river  of  the  North,  which  is  the 
only  water  in  the  United  States  that  runs  into  the  frigid 
zone,  for  this  river  empties  into  Lake  Winnepeg,  thence  into 


THE  MISSISSIPPI   VALLKT.  349 

Hudson  Bay,  the  outlet  of  which  is  by  the  Arctic  ocean.  Min- 
nesota has  a  dry  and  steady  climate,  supposed  to  be  favorable 
to  consumptives;  and  though  in  so  high  a  latitude,  the  rigors 
of  winter  are  tempered  by  warm  airs  from  the  southwest, 
•which  extend  far  across  the  vast  plains  of  Central  British 
America  and  are  peculiar  to  that  region.  This  State  has 
vast  prairies  through  the  southern  and  central  part,  and 
thence  they  extend,  with  some  variation,  by  elevated  and 
wooded  ground,  far  towards  Oregon.  Perhaps  the  region 
between  these  two  distant  points  is  less  explored  than  any  in 
our  domain,  and  a  large  part  of  it  is  overrun  by  savage  tribes. 
There  is  said  to  be  no  coal,  but  this  is  uncertain.  Peat  is 
known  to  abound.  In  the  northeast  is  much  valuable  timber. 
Beautiful  lakes  are  scattered  through  the  interior,  and  there 
are  innumerable  streams  in  which  speckled  trout  are  plenti- 
ful. In  fully  half  of  the  counties  land  can  be  entered  under 
the  Homestead  Act,  and  in  many  places  immigrants  from  the 
East  are  settling  on  such  land  in  colonies  with  encouraging 
prospects.  The  prairie  soil  is  probably  unexcelled  in  the  world, 
and  from  its  depth  on  the  high  swells  and  plateaus  the  theory 
of  drift  from  the  north  seems  to  be  sustained.  Minnesota  is 
taking  a  front  rank  among  the  wheat-producing  States.  A 
particular  variety  of  corn  does  well,  and  potatoes  should  be 
unexcelled.  There  are  certain  apples,  among  which  are  the 
Red  Astracken  and  Dutchess  of  Oldenburg,  which  are  hardy 
and  mature  their  fruit,  and  as  these  are  natives  of  Russia 
and  Sweden  there  is  little  doubt  but  other  sorts  from  those 
countries  will  yet  be  introduced,  and  give  to  the  country 
abundance  of  fruit.  There  are  large  districts  of  country  set- 
tled by  Swedes  and  Norwegians  who  find  a  congenial  cli- 
mate, and  who  will  add  m.uch  to  the  wealth  of  our  country 
and  to  the  physical  constitution  of  our  people.  The  school 
fund  is  very  large.  Such  a  State  must  contain  within  itself 
great  power,  and  it  is  not  improbable,  nay,  it  is  certain,  that 
in  the  future  it  will  furnish  a  strong  and  healthful  race  who 
by  intelligence  and  native  vigor  will  form  an  important  if 
not  a  controlling  element. 


S50  LIFE  IN  THE  WEST. 

IOWA. 

Square  miles,  55,045,  or  35,338,800  acres.    Population,  1,000,000. 

The  eastern  boundary  is  the  Mississippi,  the  western  the 
Missouri.  This  State  has  extensive  coal  beds,  and  around 
Dubuque  are  lead  mines  belonging  to  the  Galena  District. 
Lying  between  40£  and  42|  degrees  of  latitude,  it  is  wholly 
within  the  grass  belt,  while  the  southern  part,  having  a 
quick  warm  soil,  is  equivalent  to  being  within  the  corn 
belt.  The  surface  is  undulating ;  the  interior  is  an  elevated 
plateau,  and  perhaps  there  is  no  commonwealth  or  king- 
dom on  the  earth  which  contains  so  much  good  land.  As  a 
State,  it  is  far  inferior  to  Illinois  for  variety  of  climate  and 
productions;  but  for  special  crops  it  is  unexcelled,  and,  with 
such  a  large  extent  every  way  suited  to  staple  productions, 
they  are  destined  to  give  unparalleled  intensity  and  power. 
The  southeastern  portion  early  attracted  attention  by  its 
marvelous  beauty,  and  large  breadths  were  brought  into  cul- 
tivation at  the  time  the  Grand  Prairie  of  Illinois  was  without 
inhabitants.  The  northern  and  western  portions  are  more 
destitute  of  timber,  but  the  scenery  is  bold  and  striking; 
many  streams  cut  through  the  limestone  bluffs,  which  form 
the  breastworks  of  the  table  lands,  and  often  the  streams  are 
precipitated  in  cataracts.  Some  sections  are  in  a  state  of 
nature  and  await  immigrants;  while  prices  are  low,  not  be- 
cause the  land  is  of  little  value,  but  because  there  is  more 
land  than  there  are  people.  In  a  few  years  there  will  be 
great  changes,  and  places  which  now  are  thought  remote  will 
be  in  the  midst  of  wealth  and  activity.  Already  this  State  is 
on  the  great  highway  between  the  Atlantic  and  the  Pacific ; 
and  as  the  line  of  greatest  wealth  and  population  is  directly 
east,  its  extension  hither  is  unavoidable. 


Square  miles,  65,350,  or  41,834,000  acres.    Population,  1,182,000,  and 
rapidly  increasing,  as  are  also  Iowa,  Minnesota,  Nebraska  and  Kansas. 

Missouri  must  be  considered  in  at  least  two  parts.     That 


THE   MISSISSIPPI    VALLEY.  351 

north  of  the  Missouri  will  divide  it  diagonally  into  two  un- 
equal sections,  each  quite  dissimilar.  The  two  kinds  of  prai- 
rie soil,  dark  and  light,  are  as  marked  here  as  in  Illinois, 
hence  only  a  portion,  or  a  strip  about  one  hundred  miles  wide 
of  the  superior  soil,  lies  within  this  State.  However,  as  the 
elevation  westward  above  the  sea  increases,  this  strip  widens, 
and  it  deflects  so  far  southward  as  to  be  one  hundred  and  fifty 
miles  wide  on  the  western  border,  where  it  coalesces  with  the 
Missouri  bottom  and  forms  what  is  known  as  the  Platte  Pur- 
chase, a  mixture  of  prairie  and  groves,  forming  a  limited  tim- 
bered region,  the  most  fruitful  of  any  between  the  Mississippi 
and  the  Rocky  Mountains.  In  the  southeastern  part,  and  far 
inland,  the  country  is  almost  mountainous,  and  here  is  the 
richest  mineral  region,  so  far  as  is  now  known,  within  our 
dominion.  Iron  exists  in  such  enormous  quantities,  and  over 
an  extent  so  great,  that  hills  of  hematite  ore,  in  localities  now 
remote,  have  no  particular  value,  and  they  are  passed  by  with 
scarcely  a  remark.  Lead  has  been  mined  for  many  years 
with  great  success,  though  without  much  system  or  capital. 
Still,  nowhere  do  the  mines  cross  each  other  at  right  angles, 
forming  "EASTS"  and  "WESTS "as  in  the  Galena  region. 
There  are  also  zinc  and  copper,  and  recently  tin  has  been  dis- 
covered, and  the  first  pig  of  this  metal  made  in  America  has 
been  exhibited.  It  is  safe  to  say  that  the  mineral  wealth  of 
Missouri  is  beyond  human  estimate,  nor  is  it  confined  to  a 
limited  region,  but,  with  some  exceptions,  it  extends  to  the 
western  border.  Land  can  be  had  very  cheap,  also  large 
quantities,  under  the  Homestead  Act,  and  though  the  soil  is 
not  deep,  it  is  quick,  and  in  parts  of  the  mining  1'egion  has  a 
vitality  which  is  scarcely  suspected.  Here  grows  the  best 
wheat  in  the  world,  and  the  capacity  to  do  so  for  an  indefi- 
nite period  could  be  secured  if  clover  were  early  and  persist- 
ently sown.  The  old  cultivators  have  been  so  shamefully 
improvident  that  many  of  their  farms  are  not  worth  having. 
Several  of  the  counties  along  the  Arkansas  line  are  level,  low, 
and  surprisingly  rich,  and  there  are  some  small  prairies. 
There  the  inhabitants  have  been  without  industry  or  enter- 


352  LIFE  IN   THE  WEST. 

prise  ;  labor  has  been  compulsory ;  and  although  society  is 
improving,  it,  is  still  \vith  few  attractions.  A  few  years  must 
witness  a  great  revolution ;  the  idle,  ignorant,  worthless  and 
shameless  must  die  or  emigrate,  and  their  places  will  be  filled 
by  men  who  will  cover  the  land  with  beautiful  homes. 

When  we  consider,  first,  the  vast  country  to  be  supplied 
with  the  mineral  products  of  this  State,  without  the  least  bur- 
den of  inter-State  taxation ;  second,  the  knowledge  of  agricul- 
ture now  sufficiently  prevailing  to  prevent  further  exhaustion 
of  soil,  and  sufficient  to  bring  the  larger  portion,  now  in  a 
fresh  state,  to  one  of  high  fertility ;  and,  third,  that  Missouri 
has  7,000  more  square  miles,  or  4,480,000  more  acres  than 
England  and  Wales  combined,  we  may  safely  predict  that 
the  future  destiny  of  this  State  is  to  rise  to  a  position  as  com- 
manding as  that  which  England  now  occupies.  There  are 
several  other  States  of  which  a  similar  prediction  may  be 
made.  England  has  50,922  and  Wales  7,389  square  miles, 
total,  58,311.  Ireland  has  about  30,000  square  miles.  Scot- 
land, including  all  its  islands,  29,000  square  miles. 


Square  miles,  81,318,  or  52,043,120  acres.    Population,  250,000. 

The  eastern  part  of  this  State  contains  the  principal  settle- 
ments, it  is  about  two  hundred  miles  square,  and  it  is  similar 
in  many  respects  to  the  western  half  of  Northern  Missouri. 
There  are  many  streams  with  wooded  bottoms,  but  the  prai- 
ries are  so  large  that  timber  is  not  plentiful,  and  there  are 
coal,  marble  and  gypsum,  and  salt  springs  so  valuable  as  to  be 
reserved  by  the  State,  as  is  the  case  in  New  York.  The  Kaw 
river  comes  from  the  west ;  in  four  hundred  miles  it  has  a 
heavy  fall,  and  the  whole  country  generally  slopes  to  the 
Missouri  river.  The  idea  a  stranger  will  have  is  of  great 
elevation.  None  of  the  rest  of  the  prairie  States  has  so 
much  stone,  it  crops  out  in  innumerable  places ;  it  is  easily 
worked,  and  is  largely  used  for  fencing.  Only  in  low  or 
wet  ground  is  the  soil  black,  elsewhere  it  has  the  reddish 


THE  MISSISSIPPI  VALLEY.  353 

purple  hue ;  much  of  it,  evidently,  is  composed  of  decayed 
limestone,  and  it  is  from  two  to  four  feet  deep.  The  surface 
presents  a  succession  of  long  majestic  swells,  or  lofty  mounds, 
singly,  in  pairs  or  groups,  every  part  of  which  is  covered 
with  grass,  even  upon  the  rounded  summit.  On  the  high 
Missouri  hills,  the  soil  is  frequently  very  fertile.  So  many 
and  so  commanding  are  the  views,  that  Kansas  seems  to  look 
out  upon  the  world,  and  the  imaginative  traveler  will  fancy 
that  the  country  has  a  vast  and  unknown  antiquity.  When 
the  humble  home  of  the  pioneer  is  built  of  stone  from  an  ad- 
jacent ledge,  one  might  think  it  a  locality  where  long  ago  a 
city  had  turned  to  dust.  It  has  been  objected  that  Kansas 
is  subject  to  terrible  droughts,  but  during  the  last  few  years 
it  seems  most  afflicted  with  descending  rains  and  sweeping 
floods.  The  plague  of  grasshoppers  is  more  serious,  but  they 
have  left  abundant  harvests.  The  State  was  born  amidst 
skirmish  and  the  terrors  of  war.  These  are  past ;  emigration 
is  at  a  flood  tide,  and  improvements  are  on  every  hand. 

The  western  part,  also  about  two  hundred  miles  square, 
has  not  been  supposed  favorable  for  agriculture,  owing  to  a 
want  of  rain  and  an  alleged  infertility  of  the  soil.  It  is 
acknowledged  that  the  rain-fall  is  small,  but  grass  is  abun- 
dant, and  is  as  fattening  as  grain.  Even  now,  while  excava- 
tion is  going  on  for  the  Union  Pacific  Railroad,  three  hundred 
miles  from  the  Missouri,  the  soil  exceeds  two  feet  in  depth, 
and  this  is  on  the  border  of  what  has  been  called  the  American 
Desert.  "When  a  people  below  the  average  of  the  inhabitants 
of  the  Xorth  settle  and  develop  any  country,  they  add  twenty 
per  cent,  to  its  supposed  value.  When  an  average  people 
settle  it,  they  add  one  hundred  per  cent.  The  greatest  ob- 
stacle in  settling  a  new  country  lies  in  a  want  of  intelligence 
and  enterprise  in  the  first  proprietors  of  the  soil. 

NEBRASKA. 

Square  miles,  75,795,  or  48,508,800  acres.     Population,  150,000. 
This  is  one  of  the  newest  of  the  States.     To  some  extent  it 


354  LIFE  IN  THE  WEST. 

is  a  continuation  of  Iowa,  but  the  prairies  soon  merge  more 
positively  into  the  great  plains,  and  two  hundred  miles  west 
the  climate  begins  to  assume  an  oriental  character.  In  the 
vicinity  of  Omaha,  improvements  are  rapid,  as  well  as  in 
many  of  the  valleys.  There  are  many  choice  localities.  At 
present  the  soil  is  said  to  excel  Iowa  for  wheat,  while  it  must 
be  equally  good  for  other  products,  that  is,  as  far  west  as  the 
98th  meridian.  Beyond  that  a  new  system  of  farming  must 
arise,  when  experiments  will  give  more  knowledge  of  what 
shall  be  required. 

ARKANSAS. 

Square  miles,  52,198.  or  33,407,720  acres.  Population,  500,000. 
About  fifteen  miles  above  the  mouth  of  the  Ohio,  stretches 
from  east  to  west  a  ridge  of  high  land  -with  a  limestone 
base.  It  is  to  be  traced  across  the  Ohio,  thence  across  the 
Mississippi,  very  near  the  towns  of  Caledonia  and  Commerce. 
It  is  called  the  Grand  Chain.  Geologists  suppose  that  in  a 
former  condition  of  the  world  a  tremendous  cataract  poured 
over  this  ledge  into  an  arm  of  the  sea,  which  has  gradually 
filled  up  and  now  forms  the  valley  of  the  Lower  Mississippi. 
This  arm  of  the  sea  was  confined  by  bluffs,  either  on  the  pres- 
ent bank  of  the  river  or  a  few  miles  east  of  it,  and  by  hills 
from  fifteen  to  one  hundred  miles  to  the  west.  The  States 
lying  east  of  the  Lower  Mississippi  cannot  be  said  to  lie  in 
the  Mississippi  Valley,  except  so  far  as  their  tributaries  are 
concerned,  nor  do  they  present  any  character  of  an  alluvial 
country.  The  eastern  part  of  Arkansas,  occupying  the  sup- 
posed arm  of  the  sea,  is  decidedly  alluvial,  and  it  may  be  said 
to  be  a  region  not  yet  made,  for  it  is  composed  either  _of  vast 
swamps  or  of  bottoms  subject  to  overflow.  These  swamps 
vary  from  cane-brakes  and  cypress  swamps  to  stagnant  bayous. 
It  is  considered  that  in  some  seasons  of  high  floods  the  back- 
water of  the  Mississippi  and  of  its  tributaries  finds  its  way 
across  the  country  and  even  across  Red  river  into  the  Gulf 
of  Mexico  by  interior  bayous.  Beyond  this  the  high  land 
commences,  and  there  is  a  gradual  elevation  terminating  in 


THE   MISSISSIPPI   VALLEY.  355 

the  Ozark  mountains,  and  beyond  these  commence  the  broad 
plains  which  extend  into  Kansas  and  New  Mexico.  Large 
portions  of  the  mountain  or  hilly  regions  of  Arkansas  are  rich 
in  lead,  iron  and  gypsum,  but  at  present  very  little  is  known, 
and  it  maybe  said  to  be  less  critically  explored  than  Montana 
and  Idaho.  The  climate  is  mild,  though  the  southwest  part 
is  subject  to  those  terrible  winds,  the  northerners.  Every 
variety  of  fruit  grows  with  great  luxuriance,  and  the  first 
that  was  heard  of  the  celebrated  Catawba  grape  was  that  it 
grew  here  in  wild  luxuriance.  The  soil  is  sufficiently  rich, 
and  when  industry  shall  be  reorganized  and  natural  advan- 
tages are  improved,  it  will  afford  all  the  comforts  that  men 
can  desire.  The  first  settlers  in  a  warm  climate  labor  under 
great  disadvantages.  It  is  possible  to  live  in  houses  which 
imperfectly  keep  out  the  wind  and  cold ;  what  is  possible,  and 
what  shall  bring  temporary  ease,  man  always  will  adopt. 
The  development  of  countries  where  the  hidden  energies  of 
man  are  not  aroused  by  frost  and  snows  is  reserved  for  the 
last  and  the  highest  triumphs  of  the  human  race. 

KENTUCKY. 

Square  miles,  37,680,  or  24,105,200  acres.  Population,  1,300,000. 
The  alluvial  or  bottom  lands  bordering  on  the  tributaries 
of  the  several  rivers  which  run  eastward  into  the  Mississippi, 
must  comprise  many  millions  of  acres.  As  a  general  thing  a 
bluff,  or  at  least  a  hill,  comes  close  to  the  stream  on  one  side, 
while  the  bottom  is  opposite.  A  few  miles  above  and  below, 
the  bluffs  and  bottoms  change  places.  Still  there  are  excep- 
tions, for  sometimes  high  ground  recedes  to  quite  a  distance 
on  each  side,  presenting  a  beautiful  and  rich  country.  From 
February  to  June  these  bottoms  are  subject  to  overflow, 
and  immense  damage  has  often  followed;  still,  this  is  by  no 
means  the  case  every  year.  These  valleys  often  branch  out 
along  small  streams  and  extend  up  into  the  country,  some- 
times spreading  into  magnificent  stretches;  and  if  there  is  a 
limestone  base,  as  there  frequently  is,  the  value  of  the  land 
can  be  scarcely  over  estimated.  In  the  valleys  of  the  larger 


356  LIFE  IN  THE  WEST. 

rivers,  such  as  the  Cumberland  and  the  Tennessee,  the  farms 
are  generally  laid  out  so  as  to  front  the  river,  and  they  run 
back  and  include  more  or  less  rough  and  unproductive  land. 

The  Kentucky  river  runs  through  the  centre  of  the  State, 
mostly  a  limestone  region,  and  often  between  high  rocky 
bluffs.  On  the  upper  waters  is  the  Blue  Grass  region,  which  is 
due  to  a  naturally  fertile  soil  and  to  care  and  attention ;  and, 
as  a  consequence,  some  of  the  finest  stock,  both  of  cattle  and 
horses,  has  been  produced,  giving  the  people  great  pros- 
perity. The  Green  river,  flowing  through  the  southern  por- 
tion, is  navigable  a  portion  of  the  year ;  but  since  the  day  of 
railroads  only  rivers  affording  a  plenty  of  water  are  valued 
for  this  purpose.  This  is  the  Green  River  country,  also  very 
fertile,  but  a  portion  of  it,  some  twenty  years  ago,  was  sup- 
posed to  be  so  very  poor  as  to  be  worthless.  It  had  the  gen- 
eral name  of  "  barrens."  In  many  respects  it  resembled  the 
barrens  of  South  Jersey,  particularly  the  Vineland  tract. 
But  after  awhile  the  soil  grew  better,  more  through  cultiva- 
tion than  the  application  of  manure,  for  it  was  scarcely  ever 
used,  and  it  became  highly  fertile.  This  uncommon  circum- 
stance was  undoubtedly  owing  to  some  latent  fertilizer,  per- 
haps partly  decayed  limestone  which  was  decomposed  by 
cultivation.  I  have  seen  another  similar  region,  though  more 
limited,  in  Northern  Ohio,  which  was  thought  entirely  barren, 
but  which  has  now  become  extremely  rich.  Kentucky  is  an 
old  State,  and  some  of  the  farms  are  held  at  very  high  prices. 
The  land  yet  unimproved  is  either  subject  to  overflow  or  is 
of  inferior  quality. 

The  Cumberland  river  passes  through  Kentucky  into  Ten- 
nessee, and,  making  a  great  bend,  returns  again  to  the  State 
and  has  its  head  in  the  Cumberland  mountains.  Its  length 
is  about  six  hundred  miles,  and  it  is  navigable  to  Nashville, 
three  hundred  and  fifty  miles,  for  first-class  steamers.  The 
mineral  wealth  along  this  river  and  elsewhere  in  Middle  Ten- 
nessee is  considerable,  and  along  both  the  Cumberland  and 
Tennessee  are  many  iron  works.  The  scenery  of  these  rivers 
is  of  the  most  pleasing  and  majestic  character ;  sometimes 


THE  MISSISSIPPI   VALLEY.  357 

improvements  are  good,  but  often  they  are  indifferent.  The 
width  and  depth  of  these  streams  remain  undiminished  for 
hundreds  of  miles.  Unless  colored  during  a  freshet,  the  water 
is  as  clear  as  a  mountain  spring. 

The  Cumberland  flows  down  out  of  Kentucky  into  Ten- 
nessee, Mississippi,  Alabama  and  Georgia,  then  back  into 
Tennessee,  forming  an  outer  circle  to  itself,  so  that  its  length 
is  double,  or  1,200  miles;  and  for  the  volume  of  water  it 
is  by  far  the  largest  navigable  river  in  America.  Rising 
among  the  mountains  of  East  Tennessee  and  Western  North 
Carolina,  it  presents  all  the  characteristics  of  a  river  flowing 
from  a  high  latitude  to  a  low  one,  although  its  mouth  is  con- 
siderably north  of  its  source. 

TENNESSEE. 
Square  miles,  45,600,  or  29,184,000  acres.    Population,  1,115,000. 

Most  of  the  tillable  land  of  West  Tennessee  is  under  culti- 
vation, and  a  part  is  exhausted.  Still,  there  are  large  tracts, 
inclining  to  be  wet,  lying  in  valleys  along  the  various  streams 
which  are  almost  swamps,  sometimes  overflowed,  of  great 
extent  and  of  unsurpassed  fertility,  which  can  be  bought 
cheap,  but  one  must  be  prepared  to  meet  malarious  attacks, 
producing  "  chills,"  or  a  species  of  the  fever  and  ague.  The 
people  here  are  not  remarkable  for  intelligence  or  enterprise, 
and  their  influence  would  not  be  great  in  refined  society, 
though  there  are  exceptions.  Middle  Tennessee  has  a  more 
enduring  soil,  and  near  Nashville  are  some  rural  scenes,  in 
which  green  meadows  remind  one  of  favored  regions  of  the 
North.  All  this  part  has  been  settled  many  years.  East 
Tennessee  is  noticeable  for  an  elevated  plateau  in  the  midst 
of  the  Cumberland  mountains,  about  thirty  miles  wide,  and 
extending  across  the  State  into  Georgia.  The  height  is  about 
two  thousand  feet,  giving  an  average  temperature  in  sum- 
mer of  sixty-five  degrees,  and  in  winter  of  forty-five.  The 
air  is  dry  and  balmy,  entirely  free  from  malaria,  and  it  is  per- 
haps the  most  healthful  region  in  the  United  States.  Al- 
though the  people  live  in  a  manner  not  supposed  most  favor- 


358  LIFE    IN    THE    WEST. 

able  to  health,  and  in  houses  excessively  ventilated,  still  many 
live  to  an  extreme  age.  With  a  soil  of  moderate  fertility, 
grass  grows  well,  and  timothy  is  an  important  crop,  while 
wheat  of  superior  quality  is  produced.  Fruit  does  remark- 
ably well,  and  the  pest  of  the  fruit-grower,  the  curculio,  is  as 
yet  unknown.  Large  tracts  of  the  best  land  can  be  bought 
at  a  low  price,  and  improved  farms  at  from  eight  to  fifteen 
dollars  an  acre.  Men  from  the  North  with  money  and  intel- 
ligence will  be  heartily  welcomed,  in  provincial  accents,  and 
a  little  money  will  go  far.  There  is  one  railroad  connecting 
with  the  world.  Still,  this  table  land  is  isolated,  and  those  who 
depend  upon  the  refinement  and  intelligence  of  their  neigh- 
bors for  their  happiness,  will  feel  ill  at  ease  among  these  un- 
affected people.  And  yet,  surrounded  by  the  honest  and  loyal, 
by  the  most  sublime  scenery,  and  where  mountain  streams 
are  so  common  that  they  can  be  used  to  churn  the  butter  or 
to  rock  the  cradle,  a  man  who  feels  himself  as  good  as,  or 
even  better  than  anbody  else,  and  who  delights  in  developing 
the  gifts  nature  gave  him  by  his  own  efforts,  will  enjoy  him- 
self and  will  grow  in  intellect  and  grace  in  this  far-off  region 
of  East  Tennessee. 

MISSISSIPPI. 
Square  miles,  47,156,  or  30,179,840  acres.    Population.  800,000. 

The  western  part  of  this  State  is  low,  and  a  portion  be- 
tween the  Yazoo  and  the  Mississippi,  one  hundred  and  seventy 
miles  long  and  fifty  wide,  is  more  or  less  subject  to  overflow. 
The  southern  region,  along  the  Gulf,  one  hundred  miles  wide, 
is  sandy  and  low,  and  interspersed  with  cypress  swamps  and 
cane-brakes,  with  some  hills.  There  are  a  vast  number  of 
fine  plantations  along  the  Pearl  and  Big  Black  rivers.  The 
northeastern  part,  called  the  Tombigbee  country,  is  prairie, 
with  a  few  stagnant  pools  and  sluggish  streams,  but  it  is  a 
very  productive  region.  This  State  has  immense  resources ; 
corn  is  produced  at  little  cost,  and  cotton  has  yielded  in 
enormous  quantities.  Much  land  is  in  a  state  of  nature,  but 
many  first-class  plantations  can  be  bought  for  nearly  what 


THE   MISSISSIPPI    VALLEY.  359 

the  improvements  cost.  At  present  some  things  would  not 
be  agreeable  to  a  certain  class  of  immigrants,  but  the  time 
cannot  be  remote  when  Mississippi  and  all  the  rest  of  the 
Southern  States  will  enter  upon  a  career  of  unexampled  pros- 
perity. 

LOUISIANA. 

Square  miles,  41,346,  or  26,461,440  acres.    Population,  720,000. 

A  large  part  of  Louisiana  is  composed  of  the  Delta  of  the 
great  river,  which  commences  with  the  outlet  of  Atchafalaya, 
nearly  opposite  a  corner  of  the  State  of  Mississippi,  .and  more 
than  two  hundred  miles  from  the  Gulf.  Within  this  delta  is 
considerable  tillable  land,  but  naturally  it  is  subject  to  over- 
flow, to  prevent  which,  levees  have  been  built.  Still,  large 
areas  are  covered  with  lakes,  cane-brakes  or  bayous.  New 
Orleans  is  one  hundred  and  five  miles  from  the  Gulf.  Below 
the  city  are  extensive  orange  orchards.  The  coast  westward 
to  the  Sabine  or  State  line  is  marshy,  and  overflowed  by  high 
tides,  and  northward  and  adjoining  are  vast  plains  with  a  slight 
elevation  above  the  sea.  The  other  half  of  the  State,  to  the 
northwest,  is  considerably  broken,  but  the  hills  do  not  extend 
to  a  night  of  two  hundred  feet,  and  it  is  covered  with  vast 
forests  of  pitch-pine.  The  soil  is  not  fertile.  On  the  Red 
river  and  its  bayous  the  soil  is  very  rich,  and  here  vast  quan- 
tities of  cotton  have  been  produced,  while  on  the  banks  of 
the  Mississippi,  which  go  by  the  general  name  of  "  coast," 
vast  plantations  before  the  war  were  exclusively  devoted  to 
the  production  of  sugar,  the  quality  of  which  has  never  been 
excelled.  Generally,  at  no  great  distance  in  the  rear  of  these 
river  plantations,  are  extensive  swamps  and  cane-brakes. 
Wherever  this  alluvial  soil  is  cultivated  it  is  highly  produc- 
tive, and  it  may  be  said  that  it  will  retain  its  fertility  forever. 
Except  when  the  yellow  fever  visits  the  country,  the  people 
have  excellent  health  ;  but  it  is  argued,  with  some  reason,  that 
this  scourge  can  be  averted  by  proper  measures.  The  sceneiy 
from  Grand  Gulf  to  New  Orleans,  a  distance  of  three  hun- 
dred miles,  is  the  most  beautiful  and  imposing  in  North 
America. 


360  LIFE    IX    THE    WEST. 


LAJfD  OFFICES. 

To  get  correct  information  regarding  Government  lands, 
application  should  be  made  to  the  Land  Offices,  and  for  a 
small  sum  plots  of  unentered  lots  should  be  obtained.  In 
addition,  at  the  several  county  seats  are  land  agents  well 
posted.  The  location  of  the  Land  Offices  is  as  follows :  In 
Ohio,  Chillicothe  ;  Indiana,  Indianapolis;  Illinois,  Springfield  ; 
Michigan,  Detroit,  East  Saginaw,  Ionia,  Mai-quette,  Traverse 
City;  Iowa,  Des  Moincs,  Council  Blufi's,  Ft.  Dodge,  Sioux 
City;  Wisconsin,  Menesha,  Falls  St.  Croix,  Steven's  Point, 
La  Crosse,  Bayneld,  Eau  Claire ;  Minnesota,  Taylor's  Falls, 
St.  Cloud,  Winnebago,  Greenleaf,  St.  Peters,  Du  Luth ;  Ne- 
braska, Omaha,  Brownville,  Nebraska  City,  Dakota  City; 
Kansas,  Topeka,  Humboldt,  Junction  City  ;  Missouri,  Boon- 
ville,  Ireton;  Arkansas,  Little  Rock,  Clarksville,  Washing- 
ton; Mississippi,  Jackson ;  Louisiana,  New  Orleans,  Natchi- 
toches  and  Monroe. 


NEW 


^89    fS'wAY,   N.  Y. 


SAMUEL  R.  WELLS'  PUBLICATIONS. 


SELECTIONS  FROM    NEW   PHYSIOGNOMY. 


"  O  wad  tome  power  the  giftie  gie  us, 


Fig.  976. — HENRY  W.  LONGFELLOW. 


Fig.  082.— ROSA  BONHEUK. 


CHE  following  selections  and  specimen  pages  from  "New  Physiognomy,"  are 
intended  as  an  exposition  of  the  general  tenor  of  this  admirable  work  ;  which 
has  received  so  warm  a  welcome  from  the  press  all  over  the  country.  In  his 
preface,  the  author  says : 

"  We  know  how  widely  mankind  differ  in  looks,  in  opinion,  and  in  character,  and  it 
has  been  our  study  to  discover  the  causes  of  these  diflcrences.  We  find  them  in  organi- 
zation. As  wo  look,  so  we  feel,  so  we  act.  and  so  we  are.  But  we  may  direct  and 
control  even  our  thoughts,  our  feelings,  and  our  acts,  and  thus,  to  some  extent — by 
the  aid  of  grace  —  become  what  we  will.  We  can  be  temperate  or  intemperate ;  virtu- 
ous or  vicious  ;  hopeful  or  desponding  ;  generous  or  selfish  ;  believing  or  skeptical ; 
prayerful  or  profane.  We  are  free  to  choose  what  course  we  will  pursue,  and  our 
bodies,  our  brains,  and  our  features,  readily  adapt  themselves,  and  clearly  indicate  the 
li  yes  wo  lead  and  the  characters  we  form. 

"  It  has  been  our  aim  to  present  this  subject  in  a  practical  manner,  basing  all  our 
inferences  on  well-established  principles,  claiming  nothing  but  what  is  clearly  within 
the  lines  of  probability,  and 
illustrating,  when  possible, 
every  statement.  Previous 
authors  have  been  carefully  stu- 
died, and  whatever  of  value 
could  be  gleaned  we  have  sys- 
tematized and  incorporated, 
adding  our  own  recent  discov- 
eries. For  more  than  twenty 
year;--  we  have  been  engaged  in 
the-  study  of  man,  and  in  ^char- 
act  cr-reading  "  among  the  peo- 
ple of  various  races,  tribes  and 
nations,  enabling  ns  to  classify 
the  different  forms  of  body, 
brain,  and  face,  and  reduce  to 
METHOD  the  processes  by  which 
character  may  be  determined. 
Hitherto,  but  partial  observa- 
tions have  been  made,  and  of 

eonrse  only  partial  results  obtained.     We  look  on  man  as  a  whole— mado  up  of  parts, 
and  to  be  studied  as  a  whole,  with  all  the  nartg  combined." 


.  749.— A  MISEB. 


Fig.  750, 


SAMUEL  R.  WELLS'  PUBLICATIONS. 


Fig.  434.— DESERTED. 


Fig.  435. — MALICS. 


JPHYSIOGNOM.Y  OF  INSANITY  AND  TDIOCY. 

THE  chapters  on  insanity  and 
idiocy,  are  two  of  the  most  in- 
teresting in  the  work.  Not 
only  are  the  symptoms  and 
outward  appearances  analyzed, 
out  Mr.  Wells  endeavors  to 
trace  those  abnormal  condi- 
tions to  their  sources.  He 
treats  of  the  varieties,  the 
causes,  the  treatment,  the  pre- 
vention, and  the  physiognom- 
ical signs  of  insanity,  illus- 
trated amply  by  portraits  and 
accounts  of  celebrated  maniacs 
and  idiots. 

Idiocy— to  which  chapter 
twenty-one  is  wholly  devoted 

—gives  the  causes,  the  education  and  the  signs  of  idiocy ;  and  is  one  of  the  best  prac- 
tical treatises  on  that  subject  in  the  language.  The  brain  being  a  subject  to  which  the 
author  has  devoted  his  attention  for  a  lifetime,  stamp  these  chapters  as  pre-eminently 
valuable  and  reliable. 

Fig.  434,  which  represents  a  woman  who  became  insane  on  account  of  the  unfaith- 
fulness of  her  lover,  who  deserted  her,  shows  tho  lively,  brilliant  eyes  mentioned  by 
Dr.  Laurent.  She  still  loves ;  and  in  her  mental  aberration  adorns  her  disheveled  hair 
with  flowers,  and  with  parted  lips  and  "  hungry  devouring  glances  "  awaits  t?ie  com- 
ing of  her  heart's  idol,  whom  she  never  ceases  to  expect. 

"  Intense  thought,  habitual  reflection,  and  searching  inquiry  of  any  kind  cause  a  draw- 
ing down  of  the  eyebrows,  as  shown  in  Chapter  XIII.  (p.  249).    Persons  who  have 
become  insane  through  hard  study  or  the  too  close 
application  of  the  mind  to  a  particular  subject  will 
exhibit  this  characteristic. 

"  In  Fig.  435  the  eyes  gleam  with  some  relentless 
purpose  of  vengeance.  Such  a  character  as  the 
one  here  repre- 
sented is  danger- 
ous in  his  aliena- 
tion ;  for  he  com- 
bines the  cunning 
of  the  fox  with  the 
ferocity  of  the  ti- 
ger. Fig.  436  is  a 
woman  of  the  Cas- 
sandra order.  The 
eyes,  abandoned  to 
the  action  of  the 
involuntary  mus- 
cles (see  Chapter 
Xm.,  p.  233),  are 

rolled  upward  with  a  wild  look  which  is  indescribable.  She  is  giving  utterance  to  what 
she  deems  prophetic  warnings  of  the  most  solemn  and  awful  character.'' 


Fig.  43G — RAVING. 


Fig.  410.— LOVE-SICK. 


SAMUEL  R.  WELLS'  PUBLICATIONS. 


Fig.  476.— THE  CAUCASIAN  RACE. 


ETHNOLOGY,    OR  ^YPES   OF    MANKIND. 

ETHNOLOGY  is  a  subject  upon  which 
has  been  comparatively  little  studied 
The  field  is  a  wide  one  for  inquiry  and 
research,  and  chapters  on  "  The  Races 
Classified,"  "  The  Caucasian,  Mango- 
Han,  Malayan,  American  and  Ethio- 
pian Races,"  "  National  Types," 
"Ancient  Types,"  are  invaluable. 
No  where  else  can  there  be  found 
such  a  complete  digest  of  the  subject. 
In  his  Introduction  to  these  chapters 
the  author  says : 

"  The  question  of  race  will  be  found 
to  resolve  itself  into  that  of  organi- 
zation, and  this  determines  and  is 
indicated  by  configuration.  If  we  de- 
sire to  ascertain  to  what  race  an  indi- 
vidual, a  tribe,  or  a  nation  may  be- 
long, we  must  study  the  character 
of  that  individual,  tribe,  or  nation 

through  its  signs  in  the  physical  system.  Would  we  determine  the  status  of  a  race  or 
a  nation,  we  shall  find  the  measure  of  its  mental  power  in  the  size  and  quality  of  its 
average  brain,  and  the  index  of  its  civilization  and  culture  in  its  prevailing  style  of  face 
and  figure. 

"  In  so  new  a  field  of  inquiry  as  the  one  which  we  are  now  entering,  we  can  not  hope 
to  push  our  explorations  into  every  part,  or  to  investigate  thoroughly  every  point  that 
we  may  touch  upon.  We  are,  to  some  extent,  pioneers,  and  a=3  such  shall  do  as  well  as 
we  can  the  work  assigned  to  us,  trusting  that  those  who  follow  will  find  their  progress 
facilitated  by  our  labors." 

Then  follows  an  agreeable  essay 
on  "  National  Types."  The  princi- 
pal nations  and  tribes  composed  in 
the  various  races,  ai  e  described  iu 
detail,  with  a  "  view  to  show  how, 
in  each,  the  common  type  is  modi- 
fied without  being  lost,  and  how,  in 
all,  configuration  and  character  cor- 
respond." 

"  We  shall  adopt  here,  as  best 
known  and  most  generally  received, 
though  not  perhaps  most  scientific, 
the  classification  of  Blumenbach. 
This  arrangement  will  serve  the 
purposes  we  have  in  view  as  well  as 
any  other  yet  proposed,  and  whether 
it  be  accepted  by  the  reader  or  set 
aside  in  favor  of  a  more  recent  one, 
the  value  of  the  facts  we  shall  here 
throw  together  will  not  be  lessened.  Fig.  489.— THE  AMERICAN  BA.CE. 


SAMUEL  R.  WELLS'  PTTBLICATIONS. 


JPHYSIOGN  O  M.  Y     OF     CLASSES 


Figs.  710  to  725. 

NOT  only  does  the  author  divide  the  human  family  into  the  five  great  races  and 
"  National  types,"  but  he  sub-divides  them  into  "  classes,"  presenting  us  with  groups 
of  distinguished  Divines,  Pugilists',  Warriors,  Surgeons,  Inventors,  Philosophers, 
Statesmen,  Orators,  Actors,  Poets,  Musicians  and  Artists,  etc.  Of  the  poets,  he  says  : 

"  One  of  the  essential  physical  qualities  of  a  poet  is  a  susceptible  mental  tempera- 
ment. Thia  must  be  of  a  clear  and  fine— even  of  an  exquisite — tone,  to  insure  perfec- 
tion in  the  art.  There  are  all  decrees  of  poets,  from  the  lowest  to  the  highost,  ju&t 
as  there  are  different  classes  of  musicians,  painters,  sculptors,  etc. ;  but  to  excel,  and 
to  inscribe  one's  name  on  the  roll  of  great  bards,  one  must  be  not  only  every  inch  a 
man,  but  must  have  'genius '  as  well.  It  has  been  said  by  an  ancient  author,  poeta 
nasdhtr,  non  Jit ' — the  poet  is  born,  not  made ;  yet  wo  maintain  that  every  well-organ- 
ized human  boing  should  be  able  to  write  poetry,  just  as  he  should  be  able  to  maks 
mu8ic,  or  invent  and  use  tools ;  for  has  not  nature  given  to  each  a  like  number  of 
faculties,  the  same  in  function,  and  differing  only  in  degree  and  combination  ?" 


PAGES    OF 

THE     TWO     PATHS.  ' 


553 


THE    TWO    PATHS. 

The  following  contrasts,  illustrative  of  the  effects  of  a  right 
or  a  wrong  course  of  life  upon  an  individual,  are  submitted  to 
our  readers.  They  tell  their  own  story.  In  the  one  case  we 
see  a  child,  as  it  Avere,  develop  into  true  manhood ;  in  the 
other,  into  the  miserable  inebriate  or  the  raving  maniac. 


Fig.  T61.  Fig.  762. 

Two  boys  (figs.  761  and  762)  start  out  in  life  with  fair  ad- 
vantages and  buoyant  hopes.  With  them  it  remains  to  choose 
in  what  direction  they  shall  steer  their  barks.  Fig.  763  rep- 
resents the  first  as  having  chosen  the  way  of  righteousness, 


Fig.  763.  Fig.  764. 

the  upward  path.     He  lives  temperately,  forms  worthy  asso- 
ciations,  attends  the  Sunday-school,  strives  to  improve  his 
mind  with  useful  knowledge,  and  is  regarded  in  the  commu- 
nity as  a  young  man  of  excellent  character  and  promise. 
24 


NEW  PHYSIOGNOMY. 

CONTRASTED    FACES. 


In  fig.  764,  on  the  contrary,  the  other  boy  is  represented  aa 
having  unwisely  chosen  the  downward  course,  thinking  he 
will  enjoy  himself  and  not  submit  to  what  he  considers  the 
strait  jacket  of  moral  discipline.  He  becomes  coarse  am> 


Fig.  765.  Fig.  765. 

rough  in  feature,  slovenly  in  his  dress  ;  he  smokes  and  chews, 
drinks,  gambles,  attends  the  race-course,  spends  his  nights  at 
the  play-house  or  the  tavern,  disregards  all  parental  author- 
ity and  admonition,  and  develops  into  the  full-grown' rowdy, 


Fig.  767.  Fig.  768. 

and  as  such  he  sets  at  naught  all  domestic  ties  and  obliga- 
tions, leaving  his  wife  and  children  to  beg,  starve,  or  eke  out 
a  wretched  subsistence  by  the  most  exhausting  and  inadequately 


PAGES    OJ? 

676  CHARACTER-READING. 

THE   ARTIST  AXD   THE   WOMAN   OF  THE   WORLD. 

In  Rosa  Bonheur  we  see  a  child  of  inborn  genius,  inherited 
from  an  artist-parent,  developed  by  necessity,  and  perfected 
by  persevering  exertion.  From  a  love  of  them,  her  artistic 


Fig.  982.— ROSA  BONHEUK.*  Fig.  983.— THEODOSIA  BuRB.t 

sympathies  seem  to  fix  upon  horses,  cattle,  sheep,  etc.,  and  if 
she  does  not  take  on  their  natures,  she  portrayed  them  on  can 

s  Rosa  Bonheur  was  born  at  Bordeaux,  France,  May  22,  1822  ;  her 
father,  Raymond  Bonheur,  an  artist  by  profession,  and  in  humble  circum- 
stances. In  1829  he  removed  to  Paris,  where  he  put  Rosa  in  a  boarding- 
school.  There  her  poverty,  however,  was  a  constant  source  of  annoyance 
to  her  very  sensitive  nature,  as  it  provoked  the  sneers  of  her  wealthier 
school  associates.  On  that  account  she  did  not  remain  long  at  school,  but 
being  taken  home  was  instructed  by  her  father  in  drawing.  From  child- 
hood she  exhibited  an  intuitive  love  of  art,  her  inclinations  tending 
toward  the  representation  of  domestic  animals.  Making  these  her  special 
study,  she  soon  excelled  in  their  portraiture.  The  picture  which  has  ob- 
tained for  Miss  Bonheur  a  world- wide  reputation  is  "  Le  Marche  aux 
Chevaux,"  otherwise  known  as  the  "  Horse  Fair."  It  is  now  in  the  hands 
of  a  gentleman  residing  in  New  Jersey.  Miss  Bonheur  at  present  resides 
in  Paris,  industriously  pursuing  her  art.  The  great  feature  of  her  works 
is  faithfulness  to  nature  and  boldness  of  design. 

f  Theodosia  Burr  Allston,  the  daughter  and  only  child  of  Aaron  Burr, 
was  born  at  Albany,  N.  Y.,  in  1783.  Her  father  tenderly  loved  her  and 
spared  no  pains  in  her  education.  It  is  said  that  "in  solid  and  elegant 
accomplishments  she  was  very  far  superior  to  the  ladies  of  her  time.' '  She 
married  Joseph  Allston.  who  was  in  1812  Governor  of  South  Carolina.  She 
was  lost  in  the  schooner  Patriot,  on  the  voyage  from  Charleston  to  New 
York,  January,  1813. 


NEW  PHYS1OGXOMLY. 

ARTIST    AND    WOMAN    OF    THE    WORLD.      677 

vas  to  the  life.  One  almost  fancies  he  can  hear  her  pictured 
beasts  breathe,  so  naturally  are  they  drawn.  Hers  is  a  beau- 
tiful face,  if  somewhat  masculine  ;  it  is  not  coarse  ;  if  strongly 
marked,  it  is  still  womanly.  The  forehead  is  beautifully  shap- 
ed, the  eyes  well  placed  and  expressive,  the.  nose  handsome, 
and  the  lips  exquisite.  The  chin  shows  chaste  affection,  with 
nothing  of  the  sensual  or  voluptuous  ;  indeed,  it  is  rarely  we 
meet  with  more  natural  feminine  attractiveness  than  in  this 
artist- woman,  and  we  dismiss  her  from  our  considerations 
with  the  happiest  impressions. 

There  is  character  in  the  head  and  face  of  Theodosia  Burr. 
See  how  high  the  brain  is  in  the  crown  !  She  was  emphati- 
cally her  father's  daughter.  There  is  great  dignity,  pride,  will, 
and  sense  of  character  indicated  in  her  physiognomy.  aSToth- 
ing  but  religious  influences  could  subdue  such  a  nature.  There 
is  something  voluptuous  in  the  lip,  cheek,  and  chin.  The  af- 
fections were  evidently  ardent  and  strong.  Such  a  woman 
would  scarcely  be  content  in  private  and  domestic  life,  but 
would  crave  a  high  and  even  stately  position  where  her  pride 
and  love  of  display  could  be  gratified.  There  was  nothing 
of  "  your  humble  servant"  in  this  person.  Educated  as  she 
was,  she  could  be  lady-like  and  refined.  Had  she  been  un- 
educated, Ihere  would  have  been  much  willfulness,  obstinacy, 
and  perhaps  sensuality  exhibited.  Analyzed,  her  head  and 
face  exhibit  the  following  organs  conspicuously  developed — 
Firmness,  Approbativeness,  Caution,  Jdeality,  Sublimity,  Con- 
scientiousness, Language,  Agreeableness,  and  those  of  the 
back-head  generally. 

Roea  Bonheur  shows  a  higher  forehead,  a  more  meditative 
disposition  of  mind  than  her  associate  ;  her  head  is  broader  in 
Constructivcness,  Sublimity,  Ideality,  and  the  crown,  and  more 
prominent  in  the  region  of  Benevolence,  Veneration,  and  Spir- 
ituality than  that  of  the  latter.  In  a  social  point  of  view, 
Tlieodosia  shows  more  ardent  feeling,  more  intensity  of  emo- 
tion. The  latter  had  more  sympathy  for  general  society,  en- 
tered enthusiastically  into  its  enjoyments ;  the  former  finds  her 
highest  enjoyment  in  a  life  of  serene  retirement  with  a  limited 
circle  of  friends  and  at  her  easel. 


COMPARATIVE  PHYSIOGNOMY— PORTRAITS  or  A  LION  AND  MAN. 

"  What  They  Say."— Notices  of  'the  Press, 


Everybody  is  influenced  in  form- 
ing opinions  by  what  others  say.  And  it 
requires  everybody  to  know  everything 
and  to  do  everything.  A  great  book,  like 
a  great  public  work,  is,  or  should  be,  the 
culmination  of  all  past  knowledge  in  that 
interest.  Webster's  Dictionary  contains 
the  gist  of  all  preceding  dictionaries.  The 
electric  telegraph  was  suggested  centuries 
ago,  and  all  mankind,  dead  and  living, 
have  contributed  to  its  establishment.  So 
the  newspaper  press  throughout  the  world 
mav  be  said  to  echo  the  voice  of  the  people. 
The  Philadelphia  Press  says  : 

Mr.  Wells  has  put  the  thought, 
the  practical  experience,  the  close  observ- 
ation, and  the  professional  collection  of  a 
life-time  into  this  important  physiological 
work.  He  treats,  as  Lavater  did.^pf  Physi- 
ognomy, shows  its  harmony  with  Phre- 
nology, and  explains,  to  elucidate  both 
sciences,  the  whole  structure  of  the  human 
body.  He  treats  of  temperaments,  and 
contrasts  the  separate  features  of  various 
human  races,  showing  also  how  character 
is  affected  by  climate.  Very  curious,  too. 
are  his  illustrations  of  comparative  Physi- 
ognomy, showing  the  animal  types  of  the 
human  race.  The  price  of  the  work  is  $5. 

A  familiar  chapter  on  Phrenol- 
ogy is  introduced,  and  then  follows  one 
on  the  anatomy  of  the  face,  with  a  close 
analysis  of  each  feature.  First,  the  chin. 
No  one  will  dispute  Mr.  Wells  as  to  the 
infinite  variety  of  chins ;  bur  we  are  sure 
many  will  be  startled  to  hear  that  this  un- 
protending  terminus  of  the  face  has  been 
quietly  telling  then  love  secrets.  The 
jaws  and  teeth  also  tell  the'.r  own  tales  of 
character.  "  The  closest  mouth  can  hide 
no  secrets  from  the  physiognomist." — Tlie. 
Anti-Slavery  Standard. 


The  treatise  of  Mr.  Wells,  which 
is  admirably  printed  and  profusely  illus- 
trated, is  probably  the  most  complete 
hand-book  upon  the  subject  in  the  lan- 
guage. It  contains  a  synopsis  of  the  his- 
tory of  Physiognomy,  with  notices  of  all 
the'different  systems  which  have  been  pro- 
mulgated, and  critical  examinations  of  the 
eyes,  the  noses,  the  mouths,  the  ears,  and 
the  brows  of  many  distinguished  and  noto- 
rious characters.— New  York  Tribunt. 

It  contains  a  treatise  on  every 
feature  and  whatever  indicates  peculiarity 
of  character,  the  knowledge  of  which  re- 
quires appropriate  education  to  bring  into 
subjugation  and  be  made  to  answer  a  good 
end,  without  which  it  would  mar  and  in- 
jure the  pleasures  of  life.  All  who  can 
afford  to  possess  this  compendium  will 
have  value  received  for  the  expense.— New 
York  Christian.  Intelligencer. 

It  is  a  digest  of  Ethnology,  it 


the  grades  of  intelligence  is  instructive, 
and  that  on  comparative  Physiognomy  is 
exceedingly  enteitainixig.-*v4jn«riain  Edit- 


are  very  few  men  or  wo- 
men who  do  not,  consciously  or  uncon- 
sciously, practice  Physiognomy  every  day 
of  their  lives.  They  may  ridicule  the  idea 
that  the  shape  of  a  man's  head,  the  config- 
uration of  his  nose,  or  the  appearance  of 
his  eyes,  furnish  anv  guide  to  an  estimate 
of  his  character  or  disposition,  and  yet  the 
man  of  business  will  refuse  an  applicant, 
employment  because  his  glance  is  restless 
and  uneasy  instead  of  firm  and  decided; 
and  every  lady  will  quietly  but  quickly 
form  her  judgment  regarding  the  gentle- 
man who  may  be  presented  to  her  at  an 
evening  party.— New  York  Times. 


RESEJIBLANCE  BETWEEN  THE  Fox  AND  MAN  ILLUSTRATED. 


However  some  may  be  disposed 
to  sneer  at  the  claims  of 'Physiognomy  to 
rank  amongr  sciences,  the  most  persistent 
of  them  will  guage  much  of  his  action  in 
his  intercourse  with  tiis  fellow-men  by 
facial  signs.  That  certain  facial  signs  in- 
dicate peculiarities  of  character  can  scarce- 
ly be  doubted.  Mr.  Wells  records  the  re- 
p'ult  of  observations  of  others  as  well  as  his 
own;  does  full  justice,  even  where  he  dif- 
fers from  them,  to  the  views  of  his  prede- 
cessors, and  with  great,  industry  and  faith- 
fulness to  facts,  builds  up  his  system. 
He  exhausts  the  subject  and  its  cognate 
branches,  and  displays  a  masterly  power 
of  analysis  and  generalization.  It  is  an 
important  volume,  and  deserving  of  care- 
ful study.— New  York  Courier. 

The  work  is  thorough,  practical, 
and  comprehensive.  All  that  is  known  on 
the  subject  is  systematized,  explained,  il- 
lustrated, and  applied.  A  chapter  is  de- 
voted to  Graphomaucy,  or  character  as 
revealed  in  handwriting.  Taken  as  a 
whole,  it  is  the  most  complete  and  reliable 
work  on  the  subject  we  have  ever  exam- 
ined, notwithstanding  that  we  claim  an 
intimate  acquaintance  with  Lavater's  work 
on  the  same  subject—  The  Northwest. 

It  is  a  voluminous  and  very  com- 
prehensive work,  taking  the  student  by  a 
thousand  paths  to  a  conclusion  as  to  its 
entire  correctness  of  theory,  demonstrated 
by  multitudes  of  the  aptest  illustrations. 
It  is  very  entertainins  and  instructive,  tell- 
ing the  reader  in  little  of  great  things  he 
should  further  investigate.— BostonOazetle. 

As  far  as  the  study  of  the  face 
can  be  reduced  to  a  science,  Mr.  Wells 
has  succeeded  beyond  any  other  writer 
or  delineator  of  character.  His  analysis 
of  the  different  forms  of  faces,  as  in- 
dicating character,  in  the  expression  of 
the  eyes,  ears,  nose,  lips,  mouth,  head, 
hair,  "eyebrows,  hands,  feet,  chin,  neck, 
teeth,  j'aws,  cheeks,  skin,  complexion,  tho 
laugh,  the  walk,  the  shaking  of  hands, 
dress,  is  fully  illustrated  by  living  and 
dead  characters,  besides  numerous  out- 
lines to  guide  and  instruct  the  reader. 
Kthnolo"v  is  fully  treated  by  illustrations 
of  the  different  types  of  the  human  race, 
and  presented  in  a  pleasing  and  instructive 
lom.—MiUedrjeviUe  (Georgia)  Recorder. 


It  seems  quite  natural  to  expect 
that  the  various  features  of  our  bodies 
should  express  the  qualities  and  powers  of 
which  we  are  possessed.  In  all  ages  the 
eye  has  been  regarded  as  an  index  to  the 
soul,  consequently  it  is  a  popular  mode  of 
expressing  the  qualities  of  another  to  say 
that  such  a  one  has  the  eye  of  an  eagle,  a 
lion,  or  a  cat.  When  we  think  of  a  people 
of  one  country  as  distinguished  by  its  high 
cheek-bones,  and  another  by  its  lengthened 
nose,  and  another  by  its  thin  or  thick  lips, 
and  how  each  country  as  a  whole  has  a 
mental  constitution  corresponding  to  its 
phvsical  development,  we  see  reason  for 
believing  in  the  science  of  Physiognomy, 
and  how  that  which  is  true  of  nations  must 
be  more  or  less  true  of  individuals.  Price 
$5,  $8,  or  $10.— Scottish  American. 

The  illustrations  constitute  the 
most  essential  part  of  a  work  like  this.  This 
is  especially  evident  in  the  chapter  on 
"Comparative  Physiognomy,"  in  which  the 
resemblance  between  certain  classes  of  men 
and  corresponding  animals  is  strikingly  ex- 
hibited in  the  cuts.— Methodist. 

The  author  properly  considers 
Physiognomy  as  the  outward  expression 
of  "the  inner  man ;  it  shows  ra'ce,  class, 
original  inclinations,  temperament,  and 
also  the  effects  of  association  and  educa- 
tion. Close  observation  and  long  practice 
have  given  him  accuracy  in  drawing  conclu- 
sions from  the  peculiarities  of  the  human 
countenance,  and  he  has  reduced  his  ex- 
perience to  a  system,  which  is  amply  set 
forth  in  this  volume.— Philadelphia  Times. 

Among  those  who  have  contrib- 
uted to  it  in  this  conhtr}'.  the  author  of 
this  book  is  honorably  distinguished,  and 
we  feel  pleasure  in  bearing  testimony  to 
the  conscientiousness  and  ability  with 
which  he  has  executed  the  laborious  task 
he  imposed  upon  himself. — _V.  Y.  Herald. 

The  principles  sought  to  be  laid 
down  in  this  work  are  made  sufficiently 
plain  to  the  dullest  comprehension,  while 
they  are  elucidated  still  more  clearly  by  the 
aid  cf  over  one  thousand  fine  illustrations. 
The  work  is  got  up  in  the  elegant  style  pe- 
culiar to  this'  house,  and  we  regard  it  as  a 
valuable  contribution  to  a  science  that  as 
yet  is  but  in  its  infancy.— Jersey  C.  Times. 


12  SAMUEL  R.  WELLS'  PUBLICATIONS. 


J^HYSIOGNOMY"    JESTIMONIALS. 


HE  most  complete  hand-book 
of  Physiognomy  in  the  lan- 
guage.— N.  Y.  Tribune. 

It  is  really  a  complete  en- 
cyclopaedia of  the  subject. — 
N.  Y.  Gospel  of  Health. 

It  will  form  a  text-book 
for    Physiognomists    and 
Phrenologists ;  and  serves 
to  mark  the  progress  these 
studies  have  made.— N.  Y.  Herald. 


By  far  the  best  work  ever  written  on 
this  subject.  It  cannot  be  read  without 
instruction  and  profit,  and  its  sugges- 
tions are  of  great  value.—  Chr.  Inquirer. 

It  is  worthy  of  very  high  praise.  To 
read  such  a  kindly  book,  puts  one  in  a 
good  humor.— New  York  Independent. 


Is  a  work  of  science,  art  and  litera- 
ture, whose  purity  of  tone  will  commend 
it  to  all  classes  of  readers.—  Wide  World. 

All  who  can  afford  to  possess  this  com- 
pendium, will  have  value  received  for  the  expense. — N.  Y.  Christian  Intelligencer. 

Our  extracts  last  week  from  this  popular  work,  proved  so  acceptable  that  we  have 
been  induced  to  extend  our  approbation  to  some  kindred  topics. — Home  Journal. 

This  exhaustive  and  admirable  work  defines  Physiognomy  and  shows  its  benefits. 
It  ought  to  find  its  way  to  every  private  and  public  library  in  the  land.— Herald  of  Health. 

Take  such  a  volume  as  this,  and  every  one  must  acknowledge  that  Physiognomy 
opens  a  wide  field  for  interesting  investigation. — Neiv  York  Daily  Times. 

A  work  of  great  value.    We  particularly  recommend  it  to  artists. — Philadelph,  Press. 

We  view  it  as  a  worthy  addition  to  our  library.— American  Educational  Monthly. 

We  cannot  help  treasuring  the  book  as  a  highly  valuable  repository  of  practical  wis- 
dom, and  of  vast  use  to  us  in  our  course  of  life  and  action. — N.  Y.  Jewish  Messenger. 

The  best  work  now  extant  upon  the  subject  of  Physiognomy,  and  that  it  is  the  most 
interesting  one  of  the  kind  ever  published,  cannot  be  questioned.—  Chicago  Even.  Jour. 

It  will  take  a  place  among  the  curiosities  of  literature  and  science. — Palladium. 

This  work  is  well  worthy  of  a  lengthened  notice ;  but  our  space  enables  us  to  do 
little  more  than  to  commend  it  to  the  careful  perusal  of  our  readers.— Scottish  American. 

This  the  largest,  and  undoubtedly  by  far  the  best  and  most  comprehensive  work 
npon  the  subject  of  Physiognomy  ever  published. —  Chicago  Prairie-,Farmer. 

No  one  can  read  the  book  with  any  degree  of  attention,  without  deriving  much  bene- 
fit from  it,  and  its  thorough  study  would  furnish  one  with  a  knowledge  of  the  signs  of 
character  indispensable  to  success  in  any  walk  of  life. — New  Jerusalem  Messenger. 

NEW  PHYSIOGNOMY  is  a  voluminous  and  very  comprehensive  work,  taking  the 
student  by  a  thousand  paths  to  a  conclusion  as  to  its  entire  correctness  of  theory, 
demonstrated  by  multitudes  of  the  aptest  illustrations.— Boston  Gazette. 

Those  who  already  love  to  study  character,  will  find  this  work  a  delightful  companion : 
those  who  desire  to  acquire  an  insight  into  humanity  by  its  outward  signs,  cannot  find 
a  better  guide  than  in  the  illustrated  NEW  PHYSIOGNOMY.— Phil.  Sunday  Times. 

It  covers  the  whole  ground  more  thoroughly  than  any  book  before  issued.— The  Field. 

The  author  has  thoroughly  popularized  his  language,  and  is  at  home  in  his  subject. 
The  volume  is  full  of  materials  from  which  thoughts  are  generated. —  Cin.  Inquirer. 

In  this  volume,  Mr.  Wells,  with  a  very  full  mastery  of  his  subject,  and  in  very  plea- 
sant style,  takes  in  all  the  methods  of  conjecturing  character  from  external  signs.  The 
work  abounds  with  suggestive  and  often  very  instructive  statements.  Its  tendency  is 
decidedly  in  favor  of  moral  right.  In  its  department.  NEW  PHYSIOGNOMY  is,  of  course, 
a  standard,  coming  from  the  standard  quarter.— Methodist,  Quarterly  Review. 

PRICE,  MUSLIN,  $5 ;  HEAVY  CALI-,  $8 ;  TURKEY  MOROCCO,  GILT,  ELEGANT,  $10. 


Sent  Prepaid  by  Post  at  Prices  Annexed. 


PUBLISHED  BY 

SAMUEL    R.  WELLS,    No.   389    BROADWAY,   NEW  YORK. 


YPJW  PF  f  PJWPr-PPT- 


American  Phrenological  Journal  and  Life  Illustrated.—  Devoted 

to  Ethnology,  Physiology,  Phrenology,  Physiognomy,  Psychology,  Sociology,  Biog- 
raphy, Education,  Art,  Literature,  with  Measures  to  Reform,  Elevate  and  Improve 
Mankind  Physically,  Mentally  and  Spiritually.    Edited  by  S.  R.  WELLS.    Pub- 
lished monthly,  in  quarto  form,  at  $3  a  year,  or  30  cents  a  number.    It  may  be 
termed  the  standard  authority  in  all  matters  pertaining  to  Phrenology  and  the 
Science  of  Man.    It  is  beautifully  illustrated.    See  Prospectus. 
Constitution  of  Man  ;    Considered  in  Relation  to  External  Objects. 
By  GEOEGE  COMBE.    The  only  authorized  American  Edition.    With  Twenty  En- 
gravings, and  a  Portrait  of  the  Author.    12mo.  436  pp.    Muslin.    Price,  $1  75. 
The  "  Constitution  of  Man  "  is  a  work  with  which  every  teacher  and  every  pupil 
should  be  acquainted.    It  contains  a  perfect  mine  of  sound  wisdom  and  enlightened 
philosophy  ;  and  a  faithful  study  of  its  invaluable  lessons  would  save  many  a  promis- 
ing youth  from  a  premature  grave.—  Journal  of  Education,  Albany,  N.  T. 

Defence  of  Phrenology  ;  Containing  an  Essay  on  the  Nature  and 
Value  of  Phrenological  Evidence  :  A  Vindication  of  Phrenology  against  the  Attack 
of  its  opponents,  and  a  View  of  the  Facts  relied  on  by  Phrenologists  as  proof 
that  the  Cerebellum  is  the  seat  of  the  reproductive  instinct.  By  ANDREW  BOARD- 
MAN,  M.  D.  12mo,  232  pp.  Muslin.  Price,  $1  50. 

These  Essays  are  a  refutation  of  attacks  on  Phrenology,  including  "  Select  Dis- 
courses on  the  Functions  of  the  Nervous  System,  in  Opposition  to  Phrenology,  Mate- 
rialism and  Atheism.  One  of  the  best  defences  of  Phrenology  ever  written. 

Education  :  Its  Elementary  Principles  founded  on  the  Nature  of  Man. 
By  J.  G.  SPURZHEIM,  M.  D.  With  an  Appendix  by  S.  R.  WELLS,  containing  a 
Description  of  the  Tern  craments,  and  a  Brief  Analysis  of  the  Phrenological 
Faculties.  Twelfth  American  Edition.  1  vol.  12mo,  334  pp.  Illustrated.  Price, 
$150. 

It  is  full  of  sound  doctrine  and  practical  wisdom.  Every  page  is  pregnant  with  in- 
struction of  solemn  import  ;  and  we  would  that  it  were  the  text-book,  the  great  and 
sovereign  guide,  of  every  male  and  female  in  the  country  with  whom  rests  the  respon- 
sibility of  rearing  or  edimting  a  child.—  Boston  Medical  and  Surgical  Journal. 

Education  and  Self-Improvement  Complete  ;    Comprising   "  Phy- 
siology—Animal arl   Mental"  —  "  Self-Culture  and  Perfection  of  Character," 
"  Memory  and  Intellectual  Improvement."    One  large  vol.    Ulus.    Muslin,  $4. 
This  book  comprises  the  whole  of  Mr.  Fowler's  saries  of  popular  works  op  the 

application  of  Phrenology  to  "  Education  and  Self-Improvement." 

Lectures  on  Phrenology.—  By  GEORGE  COMBE.    With  Notes.     An 
Essay  on  the  Phrenological  Mode  of  Investigation,  and  an  Historical  Sketch.    By 
ANDREW  BOABDMAN,  M.  D.    1  vol.  12mo,  391  pages.    Muslin,  $1  75. 
These  are  the  reported  lectures  on  Phrenology  delivered  by  George  Combe  in  America 
in  1839,  and  have  been  approved  as  to  their  essential  correctness  by  the  author.    The 
work  includes  the  application  of  Phrenology  to  the  present  and  prospective  condition 
of  the  United  States,  and  constitutes  a  course  of  Phrenological  instruction. 


14  SAMUEL  R.  WELLS'  PUBLICATIONS. 

Matrimony ;  Or,  Phrenology  and  Physiology  applied  to  the  Selection 
of  Congenial  Companions  for  Life,  including  Directions  to  the  Married  for  living 
together  Affectionately  and  HappUy.  Thirty-Fourth  Edition.  Price,  50  cents. 

A  scientific  expositor  of  the  laws  of  man's  social  and  matrimonial  constitution : 
exposing  the  evils  of  their  violation,  showing  what  organizations  and  phrenological 
developments  naturally  assimilate  and  harmonize. 

Memory  and  Intellectual  Improvement,  applied  to  Self-Educational 
and  Juvenile  Instruction.  Twenty-Fifth  Edition.  12mo.  Muslin,  $1  50. 

This  is  the  third  and  last  of  Mr.  Fowler's  series  of  popular  works  on  the  applica- 
tion of  Phrenology  10  "  Education  and  Self-Improvement."  This  volume  is  devoted 
to  the  education  and  development  of  the  Intellect ;  how  to  cultivate  the  Memory  ;  the 
education  of  the  young ;  and  embodies  directions  as  to  how  we  may  educate  OUR- 
SELVES. 

Mental  Science.  Lectures  on,  according  to  the  Philosophy  of  Phren- 
ology. Delivered  before  the  Anthropological  Society  of  the  Western  Liberal  Insti- 
tute of  Marietta,  Ohio.  By  Rev.  G.  S.  WEAVER.  Ifmo,  225  pp.  Illustrated,  $1  50. 


This  is  a  most  valuable  acquisition  to  phrenological  literature.    It  is  instructive  and 

eneficial,  and  should  be  made  accessible  to  all  youth.    Its  philosophy  is  the  precept 

of  the  human  soul's  wisdom.    Its  morality  is  obedience  to  all  divine  law,  wntteu  or 


unwritten.    Its  religion  is  the  spirit-utterings  of  devout  and  faithful  love.    It  aims  at 
and  contemplates  humanity's  good — the  union  of  the  human  with  the  divine. 

Phrenology  Proved,  Illustrated  and  Applied  ;  Embracing  an  analy- 
sis of  the  Primary  Mental  Powers  in  their  Various  Degrees  of  Development,  and 
location  of  the  Phrenological  Organs.  Presenting  some  new  and  important  re- 
marks on  the  Temperaments,  describing  the  Organs  in  Seven  Different  Degrees 
of  Development :  the  mental  phenomena  produced  by  their  combined  action,  and 
the  location  of  the  faculties,  amply  illustrated.  By  the  Brothers  FOWLER.  Sixty- 
Second  Edition.  Enlarged  and  Improved.  12mo,  492  pp.  Muslin,  $1  75. 

Self-Culture  and  Perfection  of  Character ;  Including  the  Manage- 
ment of  Children  and  Youth.  1  vol.  12mo,  312  pp.  Muslin,  $1  73. 

This  is  the  second  work  in  the  series  of  Mr.  Fowler's  "  Education  and  Self-Im- 
provement Complete."  "  Self-made  or  never  made,"  is  the  motto  of  the  work  which 
Is  devoted  to  moral  improvement,  or  the  proper  cultivation  and  regulation  of  the  affec- 
tions and  moral  sentiments. 

Self -Instructor  in  Phrenology  and  Physiology.    New  Illustrated. 

With  over  One  Hundred  Engravings,  together  with  a  Chart  for  the  Recording  of 
Phrenological  Developments,  for  the  use  of  Phrenologists.  By  the  Brothers  FOW- 
LER. Muslin,  75  cents  ;  Paper,  50  cents. 

This  is  intended  as  a  te.tt-book,  and  Is  especially  adapted  to  phrenological  examiners, 
to  be  used  as  a  chart,  and  for  learners,  in  connection  with  the  "  Phrenological  Bust." 

Moral  Philosophy.  By  GEORGE  COMBE.  Or,  the  Duties  of  Man  con- 
sidered in  his  Individual,  Domestic  and  Social  Capacities.  Reprinted  from  the 
Edinburgh  Edition.  With  the  Author's  latest  corrections.  1  vol.  12mo,  834  pp. 
Muslin,  $1  75. 

This  work  appears  in  the  form  of  Lectures  delivered  by  the  Author  to  an  associa- 
tion formed  by  the  industrious  classes  of  Edinburgh  ;  they  created  at  the  time  consider- 
able excitement.  The  course  consisted  of  twenty  consecutive  lectures  on  Moral  Phil- 
osophy, and  are  invaluable  to  students  of  Phrenology.  Lecturers  on  Morality  and  the 
Natural  Laws  of  Man.  Address,  SAMUEL  R.  WELLS,  No.  889  Broadway,  New  York. 


SAMUEL  R  WELLS'  PUBLICATIONS.  15 


^MISCELLANEOUS  "^ORKS   ON 


Annuals  of  Phrenology  and  Physiognomy.—  By  S.  R.  WELLS,  Edi- 

tor of  the  Phrenological  Journal.  One  small  yearly  12mo  volume.  For  1S65,  '66 
and  1867.  The  three,  containing  over  150  illustrations,  for  40  cents.  For  1867.  one 
small  12mo  vol.,  58  pp.  Containing  many  portraits  and  biographies  of  distin- 
guished personages,  together  with  articles  on  "How  to  Study  Phrenology," 
"  Bashfulness,  Diffidence,  Stammering,'1  etc.,  20  cents.  For  1868,  12mo,  70  pp. 
Containing  an  elaborate  article  on  "  The  Marriage  of  Cousins,"  etc.,  etc.,  25  cents. 

Charts  for  Recording  the  Various  Phrenological  Developments. 

Designed  for  Phrenologists.    By  the  Brothers  FOWLER.    Price,  only  10  cents. 

Chart  of  Physiognomy  Illustrated,  —  Designed  for  Framing,  and  for 
Lecturers.  By  S.R.  WELLS,  Author  of  New  Physiognomy.  In  map  Form.  Printed 
on  fine  paper.  A  good  thing  for  learners.  Price,  25  cents. 

Domestic  Life,  Thoughts  On  ;  Or,  Marriage  Vindicated  and  Free 
Love  Exposed.  By  NELSON  SIZEB.  12mo,  72  pp.  Paper,  25  cente. 

This  is  a  work  consisting  of  three  valuable  lectures,  part  of  an  extended  conr>e 
delivered  in  the  city  of  Washington.  The  favor  with  which  they  were  received,  and 
the  numerous  requests  for  their  publication,  resulted  in  the  present  work. 

Phrenology  and  the  Scriptures.  —  Showing  the  Harmony  existing 

between  Phrenology  and  the  Bible.    By  Rev.  JOHN  PIERPONT.    Price  25  cents. 
"  A  full  explanation  of  many  pa§sages  of  Scripture."—  New  York  Mirror. 

Phrenological  Guide.—  Designed  for  Students  of  their  own  Character. 
Twenty-Fifth  Edition.  Illustrated.  12mo,  54  pp.  Paper,  25  cents. 

Phrenological  Specimens  ;  For  Societies  and  Private  Cabinets.  For 
Lecturers  ;  including  Casts  of  the  Heads  of  most  remarkable  men  of  history. 
See  our  Descriptive  Catalogue.  Forty  casts,  not  mailable,  $35. 

Phrenological  Bust.  —  Showing  the  latest  classification,  and  exact  loca- 
tion of  the  Organs  of  the  Brain,  fully  developed,  designed  for  Learners.  In  this 
Bust,  all  the  newly-discovered  Organs  are  given.  It  is  divided  so  as  to  show  each 
individual  Organ  on  one  side  ;  and  all  the  groups—  Social,  Executive,  Intellectual, 
and  moral  —  properly  classified,  on  the  other  side.  It  is  now  extensively  used  in 
England,  Scotland  and  Ireland,  and  on  the  Continent  of  Europe,  and  is  almost  the 
only  one  in  use  here.  There  are  two  sizes—  the  largest  near  the  size  of  life—  Is 
sold  in  Box,  at  $1  75.  The  smaller,  which  is  not  more  than  six  inches  high,  and 
may  be  carried  in  the  pocket,  is  only  75  cents.  Not  mailable. 

Phrenology  at  Home.  —  How  can  I  learn  Phrenology  ?  What  books 
are  best  for  me  to  read  ?  Is  it  possible  to  acquire  a  knowledge  of  it  without  a 
teacher  ?  These  are  questions  put  to  us  daily  ;  and  we  may  gay  in  reply,  that  we 
have  arranged  a  series  of  the  best  works,  with  a  Bust,  showing  the  exact  location 
of  all  the  Phrenological  Organs,  with  such  Illustrations  and  Definitions  as  to  make 
the  study  simple  and  plain  without  the  aid  of  a  teacher.  The  cost  for  this  "  Stu- 
dent's Set,"  which  embraces  all  that  is  requisite,  is  only  $10.  It  may  be  sent  by 
express,  or  as  freight,  safely  boxed  —  not  by  mail  —  to  any  part  of  the  world. 

"  Mirror  of  the  Mind;"  Or,  Your  Character  from  your  Likeness. 
For  particulars  how  to  have  pictures  taken,  inclose  a  propaid  envelope,  directed  to 
yourself,  for  answer.  Address,  SAMUEL  R.  WELLS,  No.  389  Broadway,  New  York. 


16  SAMTTHL  R.  WELLS'  PUBLICATIONS. 


{STANDARD  WORJC  ON  PHYSIOGNOMY. 

Sew  Physiognomy;   Or,  Signs  of  Character,  as  manifested  through 
Temperament  and  External  Forms,  and  especially  in  the  "  Human  Face  Divine." 
With  more  than  One  Thousand  Illustrations.    By  S.  E.  WELLS.    In  three  styles  of 
binding.       Price,  in  one  12mo  volume,  708  pp.,  handsomely  bound  in  muslin,  $5 ; 
in  heavy  calf,  marbled  edges,  $8 ;  Turkey  morocco,  full  gilt,  $10. 
This  work  systematizes  and  shows  the  scientific  basis  on  which  each  claim  rests.  The 
"  Signs  of  Character"  are  minutely  elucidated,  and  so  plainly  stated  as  to  render  them 
available.        The  scope  of  the  work  is  very  broad,  and  the  treatment  of  the  subject 
thorough,  and,  so  far  as  possible,  exhaustive.    Among  the  topics  discussed  are—"  Gen- 
eral Principles  of  Physiognomy;"  "the  Temperaments;"   "General  Forms"  as  In- 
dicative of  Character ;  "  Signs  of  Character  in  the  Features  "—the  Chin,  the  Lips,  the 
Nose,  the  Eyes,  the  Cheeks,  the  Ears,  the  Neck,  etc. ;    "  The  Hands  and  Feet ;" 
"  Signs  of  Character  in  Action,"— the  Walk,  the  Voice,  the  Lausrh,  Shaking  Hands, 
the  Style  of  Dress,  etc. ;   '•  Insanity  ;"   "  Idiocy  ;"  "  Effects  of  Climate  ;"  r>  Ethnol- 
ogy i"  "  National  Types  ;"  "  Physiognomy  of  Classes,"  with  grouped  portraits  ,  in- 
cluding Divines,  Orators,  Statesmen,  Warriors,  Artists,  Poets,  Philosophers,  Inven- 
tors, Pugilist*,  Surgeons.  Discoverers,  Actors,  Musicians;  "Transmitted  Physiog- 
nomies ;"  "  Love  Signs  ;"  "  Grades  of  Intelligence  ;"  "  Comparative  Physiognomy  j" 
"  Personal  Improvement ;  or,  How  to  be  Beautiful ;"  "  Handwriting ;"  "  Studies  from 
Lavater ;"  "  Physiognomy  Applied :"  "  Physiognomical  Anecdotes,    etc. 

It  is  an  Encyclopaedia  of  biography,  acquainting  the  reader  with  the  career  and  char- 
acter, in  brief,  of  many  great  men  and  women  of  the  past  one  thousand  years,  and  of 
the  present — such,  for  instance,  as  Aristotle,  Julius  Ciesar,  Shakspeare,  Washington, 
Napoleon,  Franklin,  Bancroft,  Bryant,  Longfellow,  Barnes,  Irving,  Rosa  Bonheur, 
Theodosia  Burr,  Cobden,  Bright,  Lawrence,  Whately,  Thackeray,  Knox,  Richelieu, 
Dickens,  Victoria,  Wesley,  Carlyle,  Motley,  Mill,  Spencer,  Thompson,  Alexander,  etc. 

APPARATUS   FOR   PHRENOLOGICAL  T-ECTUF^ES, 

Phrenological  Specimens,  for  the  use  of  Lecturers,  Societies,  or  for 
Private  Cabinets.  Forty  Casts,  not  mailable.  May  be  sent  as  freight.  Price,  $35. 

These  specimens  were  cast  from  living  heads,  and  from  skulls.  They  afford  an 
excellent  contrast,  showing  the  organs  of  the  brain,  both  large  and  small.  Lecturers 
may  here  obtain  a  collection  which  affords  the  necessary  means  of  illustration  and 
comparison.  This  select  cabinet  is  composed,  in  part,  of  the  following : 

John  Qnincy  Adams,  Aaron  Burr,  George  Combe,  Elihu  Burritt,  Col.  Thomas  H. 


donn  omncy  Adams,  Aaron  Burr,  George  Combe,  Elilm  Burrilt,  Col.  T&omas  a. 
Benton.  Black  Hawk,  Henry  Clay,  Rev.  Dr.  Dodd,  Thomas  Addis  Emmet,  Clara  Fisher, 
Dr.  Gall,  Rev.  Sylvester  Graham,  M.  D.,  Gosse,  Gottfried,  Karrawaukay,  Joseph  C. 
Neal,  Napoleon  Bonaparte,  Sir  Walter  Scott.  Voltaire,  Hon.  Silas  Wright,  Water- 
Brain.  Idiot,  etc.  MASKS  of  Brunell,  Benjamin  Franklin,  Haydn,  etc.  CASTS  rrioM 
THE  SKULLS  of  King  Robert  Bruce,  Pattv  Cannon,  Carib,  Tardy,  Diana  Waters.  A 
Cast  from  the  Human  Brain.  A  Human  Head,  divided,  showing  the  naked  Brain  on 
one  side,  and  the  Skull  on  the  other,  and  the  Phrenological  Bust. 

The  entire  list,  numbering  Forty  of  our  best  phrenological  specimens,  may  be  packed 
and  sent  as  freight  by  railroad,  ship,  or  stage,  to  any  place  desired,  with  perfect  safety. 

Human  Skulls,  from  $5  to  $10,  or  $15.    Articulated,  $25  to  $60. 
Human  Skeletons,  from  $35  to  $75.    French  Manikins,  to  order. 
Sets  of  Forty  India  Ink  Drawings,  of  noted  Characters,  suitable  for 

Lecturers.    Price,  $30.    On  Canvass,  in  sets,  $40. 

Oil  Paintings— Portraits, — can  be  had  to  order,  from  $5  each,  upwards. 
Anatomical  and  Physiological  Plates  Mounted.— WEBER'S,  11  in 

number,  $50.    TBAXL'S,  6  In  number,  $20.    LAMBERT'S,  6  in  number,  $20.    KHL- 
LOOO'S,  from  the  French  of  Bourgeoise  and  Jacobs.    Very  fine.   20  in  number,  $4fi. 

We  can  supply  all  Works  on  Phrenology,  Physiology,  Anatomy,  Hydropathy,  etc., 
Maps,  Charts,  Manikins,  Skulls,  Skeletons,  and  Apparatus,  for  the  use  of  Lecturers. 


— -1 
SAMUEL  R  WELLS'  PUBLICATIONS.  17 

WORKS  ON    PHYSIOLOGY.. 

Food  and  Diet,  A  Treatise.— With  observations  on  the  Dietetic*] 
Regimen,  stilted  for  Disordered  States  of  the  Digestive  Organs,  and  an  account  of 
the  Dietaries  of  some  of  the  Principal  Metropolitan  and  other  Establishments  for 
Paupers,  Lunatics,  Criminals,  Children,  the  Sick,  ete.  By  JONATHAN  PEKEIKA. 
M.  D.,  P.  R.  S.  and  L.  S.  Edited  by  CHARLES  A.  LEE,  M.  D.  Octavo,  313  pp 
Muslin,  $1  75. 

An  important  physiological  work.  Considerable  pains  have  been  taken  in  the  pre- 
paration of  tables  representing  the  proportion  of  some  of  the  chemical  elements,  and 
of  the  alimentary  principles  contained  in  different  foods.  The  work  is  accurate  and 
complete. 

Fruits  and  Farinacea  the  Proper  Food  of  Man.— Being  an  attempt 

to  Prove  by  History,  Anatomy,  Physiology  and  Chemistry,  that  the  Original, 
Natural  and  Best  Diet  of  Man,  is  derived  from  the  Vegetable  Kingdom.  By  JOHN 
SMITH.  With  Notes  and  Illustrations.  By  R.  T.  TRALL,  M.  D.  From  the  Second 
London  Edition.  12mo,  314  pp.  Muslin  $1  75. 

This  is  a  text-book  of  facts  and  principles  connected  with  the  vegetarian  question, 
and  is  a  very  desirable  work. 

Hereditary  Descent :  Its  Laws  and  Facts  applied  to  Human  Improvo- 
"ment.  Physiological.  By  Mr.  FOWLER.  12mo,  288  pp.  Muslin,  $1  50. 

Human  Yoice,  The. — Its  Right  Management  in  Speaking,  Reading 
and  Debating.  Including  the  Principles  of  Trne  Eloquence,  together  with  the 
Functions  of  the  Vocal  Organs,  the  Motion  of  the  Letters  of  the  Alphabet,  the 
Cultivation  of  the  Ear,  the  Disorders  of  the  Vocal  and  Articulating  Organs,  Origin 
and  Construction  of  the  English  Language,  Proper  Methods  of  Delivery,  Remedial 
Effects  of  Reading  and  Speaking,  etc.  By  the  Rev.  W.  W.  EAZALBT,  A.  M. 
13mo,  46  pp.  Muslin  Flex.,  50  cents. 
This  work  contains  many  suggestions  of  great  value  to  those  who  desire  to  speak 

and  read  well.    Regarding  the  right  management  of  the  voice  as  intimately  connected 

with  health,  as  well  as  one  of  the  noblest  and  most  useful  accomplishments  ;  the  work 

should  be  read  by  all. 

Illustrated    Family    Gymnasium.— Containing  the    most    improved 
methods  of  applying  Gymnastic,  Calisthenic,  Kinesipathic  and  Vocal  Exercises 
to  the  Development  of  the  Bodily  Organs,  the  invigoration  of  their  functions, 
the  preservation  of  Health,  and  the  Cure  of  Disease  and  Deformities.   With  numer- 
ous illustrations.    By  R.  T.  TRALL,  M.  D.    12mo,  215  pp.    Muslin,  $1  75. 
In  this  excellent  work,  the  author  has  aimed  to  select  the  very  best  materials  from 
ell  accessible  sources,  and  to  present  a  sufficient  variety  of  examples  to  meet  all  the 
demands  of  human  infirmity,  so  far  as  exercise  is  to  be  regarded  as  the  remedial  agency. 

Management  of  Infancy,  Physiological  and  Moral  Treatment  on  the. 

By  ANDREW  COMBE,  M.  D.    With  Notes  and  a  Supplementary  Chapter.    By  JOH* 

BELL,  M.  D.    ISir.o,  307  pp.    Muslin,  $1  50. 

This  .s  one  of  the  Desl  treatises  on  the  management  of  infancy  extant.  Few  others 
are  so  well  calculated  to  supply  mothers  with  the  kind  of  information  which,  in  their 
circumstances,  is  especially  neened. 

Philosophy  of   Sacred  History?  Considered  in  Relation  to  Human 

Aliment  and  the  Wines  of  Scripture.    By  GRAHAM.    12mo,  580  pp.    Cloth,  $3  50. 

A  work  highly  useful,  both  for  study  and  reference,  to  all  who  are  interested  in  the 

great  question  of  Biblical  History  in  relation  to  the  great  moral  reforms,  which  are 

acknowledged  as  among  the  most  prominent  features  of  the  nineteenth  century.    It  ia 

among  the  most  valuable  contributions  to  Biblical  and  reformatory  literature. 


SAMUEL  R.  WELLS'  PUBLICATIONS. 


Physiology,  Animal  and  Mental :  Applied  to  the  Preservation  and 
Restoration  of  Health  of  Body  and  Power  of  Mind.  Sixth  Edition.  12mo,  312  pp. 
Illustrated.  Muslin,  $1  50. 

The  title  of  this  work  indicates  the  character  of  this  admirable  physiological  work. 
Its  aim  is  to  preserve  and  restore  health  of  body  and  power  of  mind.  The  mottc 
is,  "  A  sound  mind  in  a  sound  body." 

Physiology  of  Digestion.— Considered  with  relation  to  the  Principles 
of  Dietetics.  By  ANDREW  COMBE,  M.  D.  Fellow  of  the  Royal  College  of  Physicians 
of  Edinburgh.  Tenth  Edition.  Illustrated.  18mo,  310  pp.  Price,  50  cents. 

The  object  of  this  work  is  to  lay  before  the  public  a  plain  and  intelligent  description 
of  the  structure  and  uses  of  the  most  important  organs  of  the  body,  and  to  show  how 
information  of  this  kind  may  be  usefully  applied  in  practical  life. 

Practical  Family  Dentist.— A  Popular  Treatise  on  the  Teeth.  Ex- 
hibiting the  means  necessary  and  efficient  to  secure  their  health  and  preserva- 
tion. Also,  the  various  errors  and  pernicious  practices  which  prevail  in  relation 
to  Dental  Treatment.  With  a  variety  of  useful  Receipts  for  Remedial  Compounds. 
Designed  for  Diseases  of  the  Teeth  and  Gums.  By  D.  C.  WERNER,  M.  D.  $1  50. 

This  is  a  work  which  should  b«  in  the  hands  of  all  who  wish  to  keep  their  teeth  in 
a  good  and  healthy  condition.  The  author  treats  on  the  subject  in  a  practical  manner. 

Principles  of  Physiology  applied  to  the  Preservation  of  Health  and 
to  the  Improvement  of  Physical  and  Mental  Education.  By  ANDREW  COMBE,  M. 
D.,  Physician  Extraordinary  to  the  Queen  of  England,  and  Consulting  Physician 
to  the  King  and  Queen  of  the  Belgians.  Illustrated  with  Wood  Cuts.  To  which  are 
added  Notes  and  Observations.  By  Mr.  FOWLER.  Printed  from  the  Seventh 
Edinburgh  Edition.  Enlarged  and  Improved.  Octavo,  320  pp.  Muslin,  $1  75. 

"  One  of  the  best  practical  works  on  Physiology  extant." 

Science  of  Human  Life,  Lectures  on  the,— By  SYLVESTER  GRAHAM. 

With  a  copious  Index  and  Biographical  Sketch  of  the  Author.    12mo,  651  pp. 
Illustrated.    Muslin,  $3  50. 

We  have  met  with  few  treatises  on  the  Science  of  Human  Life,  especially  among 
those  addressed  to  the  general  reader,  of  equal  merit  with  this  one.  The  subject  is 
treated,  in  all  its  details,  with  uncommon  ability.  .  .  .  These  lectures  will  afl'oid 
the  unprofessional  reader  a  fund  of  curious  and  useful  information  in  relation  to  the 
organization  of  his  frame,  the  laws  by  which  it  is  governed,  and  the  several  causes 
which  tend  to  derange  the  regularity  of  its  function*,  which  he  would  find  it  difficult 
to  obtain  from  any  other  source.— Eclectic  Journal  of  Medical  Science. 

Sober  and  Temperate  Life.— The  Discourses  and  Letters  of  Louis 
Cornado,  on  a  Sober  and  Temperate  Life.  With  a  Biography  of  the  Author,  who 
died  at  150  years  of  age.  By  PIERO  MARONCEI.LI,  and  Notes  and  Appendix  by 
JOHN  BURDELL.  Twenty-Fifth  Thousand.  IGmo,  228  pp.  Paper,  50  cents. 

Th:s  work  is  a  great  favorite  with  the  readinnr  public, -as  evinced  by  the  number  of 
editions  already  sold.  The  sound  principles  and  maxims  of  temperance  of  the  "  old 
man  eloquent,"  are.  though  centuries  have  elapsed  since  his  decease,  still  efficient  in 
taming  men  to  a  sober  and  temperate  life. 


ANATOMICAL    AND    J^HYSIOLOGICAL    JRLATES. 

New  Anatomical  and  Physiological  Plates  for  Lecturers,  Physi- 
cians, and  Others.    By  R.  T.  TRA.LL,  M.  D.,  author  of  various  works. 
These  plates  represent  all  the  organs  and  principal  structures  of  the  human  body  in 
situ,  and  of  the  size  of  life.    There  are  six  in  the  set,  backed  and  on  rollers,  as  follows : 

The  Heart  and  Lungs,— >~o.  1 

presents  a  front  view  of  the  lungs, 
heart,  stomach,  liver,  gall-bladder, 
larynx,  thymus,  and  parotid  glands, 
common  carotid  arteries,  and  jugular 
vein.  Colored  as  in  life. 

Dissections. — >To.  2  is  a  com- 
plete dissection  of  the  heart,  exhibit- 
ing its  valves  and  cavitie*,  and  the 
course  of  the  blood.  The  large  arte- 
ries and  the  veins  of  the  heartT  lungs, 
and  neck  are  displayed,  with  the 
windpipe  and  its  bronchial  ramifica- 
tions ;  also  the  liver  with  its  gall- 
bladder and  ducts ;  the  pancreas  ;  the 
kidneys  with  their  ureters  and  blood 
vessels ;  the  descending  aorta,  or  large 
artery  of  the  chest  and  abdomen; 
ovaries,  fallopian  tubes,  round  and 
broad  ligaments,  etc. 

Nervous  System. — No.  3.   Side 

view  of  the  brain,  heart,  lungs,  liver, 
bowels,  uterus,  and  bladder.  Also 
the  various  subdivisions  of  the  base 
of  the  brain,  with  the  whole  length 
of  the  spinal  cord,  showing  the  origin 
of  all  the  cerebro-spinal  nerves. 

The  Eye  and  the  Ear.— So.  4. 

The  anatomy  of  the  eye  and  ear,  re- 
presenting the  arrangements  of  the 
minute  blood-vessels,  nerves,  and 
other  structures  concerned  in  the 
functions  of  seeing  and  hearing. 

Digestion.— Xo.  o.  The  ali- 
mentary canal,  exhibiting  the^act 
size,  shape,  and  arrangement  of 
structures  especially  concerned  in 
digestion,  viz. :  the  mouth,  throat, 
tongue,  esophagus,  stomach,  small 
and  large  intestines,  with  the  liver, 
gall-bladder,  and  the  biliary  ducts; 
also  the  internal  structure  of  the  kid- 
neys, and  a  beautiful  representation 
of  the  lacteal  absorbents  and  glands, 
thoraic  duct,  and  their  connections 
with  the  thoraic  arteries  and  veins. 

Circulation  —  S  k  i  n,— Xo.    G. 

The  lobes  of  the  lungs  and  cavities 

of  the  heart,  valves,  etc.,  with  the  large  vessels  of  the  circulation ;  also  a  minute  dis- 
section of  the  structures  of  the  skin— the  sebaceous  follicles,  sweat  glands,  etc. ;  ex- 
hibiting the  extent  and  importance  of  the  great  depurating  functions  of  the  surface. 

Every  lecturer,  teacher,  and  physician  should  have  a  set.  Price  for  the  whole,  beau- 
tifully colored  and  mounted,  f  20.  We  do  not  sell  single  plates.  May  be  sent  by  Ex- 
press. Address  SAMUEL  K.  WELLS,  No.  339  Broadway,  New  York. 


20  SAMUEL  R.  WELLS'  PUBLICATIONS. 


ON   JiYDROPATHY,    OR.  "^ATER^    pURE. 

Children,  their  Hydropathic  Management  in  Health  and  Disease.  A 
Descriptive  and  Practical  Work,  designed  as  a  Guide  for  Families  and  Physicians. 
Illustrated  with  numerous  cases.  By  JOEL  SHEW,  M.  D.  12mo,  430  pp.  $1  75. 

Consumption,  its  Prevention  and  Cure  by  the  Water  Treatment.  With 
advice  concerning  Hemorrhage  from  the  Lungs,  Coughs,  Colds,  Asthma,  Bron- 
chitis, and  Sore  Throat.  Same  Author.  12mo,  286  pp.  Muslin,  $1  50. 

Hydropathic  Cook  Book;  With  Recipes  for  Cooking  on  Hygienic 
Principles.  Containing  also,  a  Philosophical  Exposition  of  the  Relations  of  Food 
to  Health;  the  Chemical  Elements  and  Proximate  Constitution  of  Alimentary 
Principles ;  the  Nutritive  Properties  of  all  kinds  of  Aliments ;  the  Relative  Value 
of  Vegetable  and  Animal  Substances ;  the  Selection  and  Preservation  of  Dietetic 
Material,  etc.  By  R.  T.  TBALL,  M.  D.  12mo,  226  pp.  Muslin,  $1  50. 

Diseases  of  the  Tliroat  and  Lungs,  including  Diphtheria,  and  their 
Proper  Treatment.  By  R.  T.  TBALL,  M.  D.  12mo,  39  pp.  Paper,  25  cents. 

Domestic  Practice  of  Hydropathy,  with  Fifteen  Engraved  Illustra- 
tions of  important  subjects,  from  Drawings  by  Dr.  Howard  Johnson,  with  a  form 
of  a  Report  for  the  assistance  of  Patients  in  consulting  their  Physician  by  cor- 
respondence. By  EDWABD  JOHNSON,  M.  D.  12mo,  467  pp.  Muslin,  $2. 

Hydropathy  for  the  People.  With  observations  on  Drugs,  Diet, 
Water,  Air,  and  Exercise.  By  WILLIAM  HOKSELL,  of  London.  With  Notes  and 
Observations,  by  R.  T.  TBALL,  M.  D.  12mo,  246  pp.  Cloth,  $1  50. 

Hydropathic  Encyclopedia. — A  System  of  Hydropathy  and  Hygiene. 
In  One  Large  Octavo  Volume.  Embracing  Outlines  of  Anatomy,  Illustrated; 
Physiology  of  the  Human  Body ;  Hygienic  Agencies,  and  the  Preservation  of 
Health  ;  Dietetics  and  Hydropathic  Cookery ;  Theory  and  Practice  of  Water-Treat- 
ment ;  Special  Pathology  and  Hydro-Therapeutics,  including  the  Nature,  Causes, 
Symptoms,  and  Treatment  of  all  known  Diseases  ;  Application  of  Hydropathy  to 
Midwifery  and  the  Nursery;  with  nearly  One  Thousand  Page*,  including  a  Glos- 
sary, Table  of  Contents,  and  a  complete  Index.  Designed  as  a  Guide  to  Families 
and  Students,  and  a  Text-Book  for  Physicians.  With  numerous  Engraved  Illustra- 
tions. By  R.  T.  THALL,  M.  D.  Large  12mo,  964  pp  Muslin,  $4  50. 

In  the  general  plan  and  arrangement  of  the  work,  the  wants  and  necessities  of 
the  people  have  been  steadily  kept  in  view.  Whilst  almost  every  topic  of  interest  in 
..he  deparlments  of  Anatomy,  Physiology,  Pathology,  Hygiene  and  Therapeutics,  is 
briefly  presented,  those  of  practical  utility  are  always  put  prominently  forward.  The 
prevailing  conceits  and  whims  of  the  day  and  age  are  exposed  and  refuted  ;  the  theo- 
ries and  hypotheses  upon  which  the  popular  drug-practice  is  predicated  are  contro- 
verted, and  the  why  and  wherefore  of  their  fallacy  clearly  demonstrated. 

It  is  a  rich,  comprehensive,  and  well-arranged  encyclopedia. — New  York  Tribune. 


SAMUEL  R.  WELLS'  PUBLICATIONS.  21 


Hydropathic  Family  Physician.— A  Ready  Prescriber  and  Hygienic 
Adviser.  With  Reference  to  the  Nature,  Causes,  Prevention,  and  Treatment  of 
Diseases,  Accidents,  and  casualties  of  every  kind.  With  a  Glossary  and  copious 
Index.  By  JOEL  SHEW,  M.  D.  Illustrated  with  nearly  Three  Hundred  Engravings. 
One  largevolume,  intended  foi  use  in  the  Family.  12mo,  816  pp.  Muslin,  $4. 

It  possesses  the  most  practical  utility  of  any  of  the  author's  contributions  to  popu- 
lar medicine,  and  is  well  adapted  to  give  the  reader  an  accurate  idea  of  the  organiza- 
tion and  functions  of  the  human  frame.— New  York  Tribune. 

Midwifery  and  the  Diseases  of  Women. — A  Descriptive  and  Practi- 
cal Work.  With  the  general  management  of  Child-Birth,  Nursery,  etc.  Illus- 
trated with  numerous  cases  of  Treatment.  Same  Author.  12mo,  430  pp.  Mus- 
lin, $1  75. 

Philosophy  of  the  Water-Cure.— A  Development  of  tho  true  Princi- 
ples of  Health  and  Longevity.  By  JOHN  BALBIRNIE,  M.  D.  Illustrated,  with  the 
Confessions  and  Ohservations  of  Sir  EDWAD  LYTTON  BULWEB.  12mo,  50  cents. 

Practice  of  the  Water-Cure.— With  Authenticated  Evidence  of  its 
Efficacy  and  Safety.  Containing  a  Detailed  Account  of  the  various  processes  used 
in  the  Water  Treatment ;  A  Sketch  of  the  History  and  Progress  of  the  Water- 
Cure ;  well  authenticated  cases  of  Cure,  etc.  By  JAMES  WILSON,  and  JAMES 
MANBT  GULLY,  M.  D.  13mo,  144  pp.  Paper,  50  cents. 

Water-Cure  in  Chronic  Diseases;  An  Exposition  of  the  Causes, 
Progress,  and  Terminations  of  various  Chronic  Diseases  of  the  Digestive  Organs, 
Lungs,  Nerves,  Limbs  and  Skin,  and  of  their  Treatment  by  Water  and  other  Hy- 
gienic means.  Illustrated  with  an  Engraved  View  of  the  Nerves  of  the  Lungs, 
Heart,  Stomach  and  Bowels.  By  J.  M.  GULLY,  M.  D.  12mo,  405  pp.  Muslin,  $2. 

Water  and  Vegetable  Diet  in  Consumption,  Scrofula,  Cancer,  Asthma, 
and  other  Chronic  Diseases.  By  WILLIAM  LAMBE,  M.  D.  With  Notes  and  Addi- 
tions, by  JOEL  SHEW,  M.  D.  12mo,  258  pp.  Muslin,  $1  50. 

Water-Cure  Manual.— A  Popular  Work.  Embracing  Descriptions  of 
the  various  modes  of  Bathing,  the  Hygienic  and  Curative  Effects  of  Air,  Exercise, 
Clothing,  Occupation,  Diet,  Water-Drinking,  etc.,  together  with  Descriptions  of 
Diseases,  and  the  Hydropathic  means  to  be  employed  therein.  Illustrated  with 
cases  of  Treatment  and  Cure.  Containing  also,  a  fine  engraving  of  Priessnitz, 
By  JOEL  SHEW,  M.  D.  Tenth  Thousand.  Improved.  12mo,  282  pp.  Muslin,  $1  50. 


Special  List.— We  have,  in  addition  to  the  above,  Private  Medical 
Works  and  Treatises  which,  although  not  adapted  to  general  circulation,  are 
invaluable  to  those  who  need  them.  This  Special  List  will  be  sent  on  receipt  of 
stamp.  Address  S.  R.  WELLS,  389  Broadway,  New  York. 


22  SAMUEL  R.  WELLS'  PUBLICATIONS. 


jEsop's  Fables.— The  People's  Edition.    Beautifully  Illustrated,  with 

nearly  Sixty  Engravings.    1  vol.  12mo,  72  pp.    Cloth,  gilt,  beveled  boards,  $1. 
It  is  gotten  up  in  sumptuous  style,  and  illustrated  with  great  beauty  of  design.    It 
will  conduce  to  educate  the  eye  and  elevate  the  taste  of  the  young  to  the  appreciation 
of  the  highest  and  most  perfect  forms  of  grace  and  beauty.— Mount  Holly  Herald. 

Chemistry,  and  its  application  to  Physiology,  Agriculture  and  Com- 
merce. By  JUSTUS  LIEBIG,  M.  D.,  F.  R.  S.,  Professor  of  Chemistry.  EO.ited  by 
JOHN  GARDNER,  M.  D.  Twelth  Thousand.  Octavo,  54pp.  Paper,  50  cents. 

Essays  on  Human  Rights  and  their  Political  Guarantees.— By  E. 

P.  HUBLBUT,  Counselor-at-Law  in  the  City  of  New  York — now  Judge.   With  Notes, 
by  GEORGE  COMBE.    Sixth  Thousand.    1  vol.    12mo,  249  pp.    Muslin,  $1  50. 

Fruit  Culture  for  the  Million.— A  Hand-Book.  Being  a  Guide  to  the 
Cultivation  and  Management  of  Fruit  Trees.  With  Descriptions  of  the  Best 
Varieties  in  the  United  States.  Illustrated  with  Ninety  Engravings.  With  an 
Appendix  containing  a  variety  of  useful  memoranda  on  the  subject,  valuable 
receipts,  etc.  By  THOMAS  GREGG.  12mo,  163  pp.  Muslin,  $1. 

Gospel  Among  the  Animals ;  Or,  Christ  with  the  Cattle.— By  Rev. 
SAMUEL  OSGOOD,  D.  D.  One  small  12mo  vol.,  24  pp.  Price,  85  cents. 

Home  for  All ;    Or,  the  Gravel  Wall.     A  New,  Cheap,  and  Superior 
Mode  of  Building,  adapted  to  Rich  and  Poor.    Showing  the  Superiority  of  this 
Gravel  Concrete  over  Brick,  Stone  and  Frame  Houses ;  Manner  of  Making  and 
Depositing  it.    With  numerous  Illustrations.    1  vol.  12mo,  19:2  pp.    Muslin,  $1  50. 
>"  There's  no  place  like  Home."    To  cheapen  and  improve  human  homes,  and  espe- 
cially to  bring  comfortable  dwellings  within  the  reach  of  tho  poor  classes,  is  the  object 
of  this  volume — an  object  of  the  highest  practical  utility  to  man. 

How  to  Live  :  Saving  and  Wasting,  or  Domestic  Economy  Illustrated, 
by  the  Life  of  Two  Families  of  Opposite  Character,  Habits  and  Practices,  in  a 
Pleasant  Tale  of  Real  Life,  full  of  Useful  Lessons  in  Housekeeping,  and  Hints 
How  to  Live,  How  to  Have,  How  to  Gain,  and  How  to  be  Happy ;  including  the 
Story  of  "  A  Dime  a  Day."  By  SOLON  ROBINSON.  1  vol.  12mo,  343  pp.  $1  50. 

Immortality  Triumphant.— The  Existence  of  a  God,  and  Human  Im- 
mortality Practically  Considered,  and  the  Truth  of  Divine  Revelation  Substan- 
tiated. By  Rev.  JOHN  BOVEE  DODS.  1  vol.  12mo,  216  pp.  Muslin,  $1  50. 

Movement-Cure. —  An  Exposition  of  the  Swedish  Movement-Cure. 
Embracing  the  History  and  Philosophy  of  this  System  of  Medical  Treatment,  with 
Examples  of  Single  Movements,  and  Directions  for  their  Use  in  Various  Forms  of 
Chronic  Diseases ;  forming  a  Complete  Manual  of  Exercises,  together  with  a  Sum- 
mary of  the  Principles  of  General  Hygiene.  By  GEORGE  H.  TAYLOB,  A.  M.,  M.  D. 
1  vol.  12mo,  408  pp.  Muslin,  $1  75. 

Natural  Laws  of  Man. — A  Philosophical  Catechism.    By  J.  G.  SPURZ- 

HEIM.  M.  D.    Sixth  Edition.    Enlarged  and  Improved.    One  small  16mo  vol.,  171 
pp.    Muslin,  75  cents. 

George  Combe,  in  that  great  work  "  The  Constitution  of  Man,"  acknowledges  that 
he  derived  his  first  ideas  of  the  "  Natural  Laws,"  from  Spurzheim. 

An  Essay  on  Man.— By  ALEXANDER  POPE.  With  Notes  by  S.  R. 
WBLLB.  Beautifully  Illustrated.  1  vol.  12mo,  50  pp.  Cloth,  gilt,  beveled  boards,  $1. 


SAMUEL  R.  WELLS'  PUBLICATIONS.  28 


Three  Hours'  School  a  Day.— A  Talk  with  Parents.    By  WILLIAM 

L.  CBANDAI..    Intended  to  aid  in  the  Emancipation  of  Children  and  Youth  from 

School  Slavery.    1  vol.  12mo,  264  pp.    Muslin,  §1  50. 
The  Christian  Household. — Embracing  the  Christian  Home,  Husband, 

Wife,  Father,  Mother,  Child,  Brother  and  Sister.    By  Eev.  G.  S.  WEAYEB.    1  voL 

12mo,  100  pp.    Muslin,  $1. 

This  little  volume  is  designed  as  a  partial  answer  to  one  of  the  most  solicitous  wants 
of  Christian  families.  I  have  for  years  seen  and  sorrowed  over  the  absence  of  Christ 
in  our  households.  Among  the  Christian  people  of  every  sect,  there  is  a  sad  deficiency 
of  Christian  principle  and  practice  at  home.  .  .  .  Why  is  it  so  J — Preface. 

Weaver's  Works  for  the  Young. — Comprising  "  Hopes  and  Helps  for 

the  Yonng  of  both  Sexes,"  "Aims  and  Aids  for  Girls  and  Young  Women," 

"  Ways  of  Life ;  Or,  the  Right  Way  and  the  Wrong  Way."    By  Rev.  G.  S.  WEAVEB. 

One  large  vol.  12mo,  636  pp.    Muslin,  $3. 

The  three  volumes  of  which  this  work  is  comprised,  may  also  be  had  in  separate  form. 

Hopes  and  Helps  for  the  Young  of  both  Sexes.— Relating  to  the 

Formation  of  Character,  Choice  of  Avocation,  Health,  Amusement,  Music,  Con- 
versation, Cultivation  of  Intellect,  Moral  Sentiment,  Social  Affection,  Courtship 
and  Marriage.  Same  Author.  1  vol.  12mo,  246  pp.  Muslin,  $1  50. 

Aims  and  Aids  for  Girls  and  Young  Women,  on  the  various  Duties 

of  Life.  Including,  Physical,  Intellectual  and  Moral  Development,  Self-Culture, 
Improvement,  Dress,  Beauty,  Fashion,  Employment,  Education,  the  Home  Rela- 
tions, their  Duties  to  Young  Men,  Marriage,  Womanhood  and  Happiness.  Same 
Author.  12mo,  224  pp.  Muslin,  $1  50. 

Ways  of  Life,  showing  the  Right  Way  and  the  Wrong  Way.  Con- 
trasting the  High  Way  and  the  Low  Way ;  the  True  Way  and  the  False  Way ;  the 
Upward  Way  and  the  Downward  Way ;  the  Way  of  Honor  and  the  Way  of  Dis- 
honor. Same  Author.  1  vol.  12mo,  157  pp.  Muslin,  $1. 

Notes  on  Beauty,  Vigor  and  Development ;    Or,  How  to  Acquire 

Plumpness  of  Form,  Strength  of  Life  and  Beauty  of  Complexion  ;  with  Rules  for 
Diet  and  Bathing,  and  a  Series  of  improved  Physical  Exercises.  By  WILLIAM 
MILO,  of  London.  Illustrated.  12mo,  24  pp.  Paper,  12  cents. 

Father  Matthew,  the  Temperance  Apostle.— His  Portrait,  Charac- 
ter, and  Birgraphy.  By  S.  R.  WELLS,  Editor  of  the  Phrenological  Journal.  12c. 

Temperance  in  Congress. — Speeches  delivered  in  the  House  of  Repre- 
sentatives on  the  occasion  of  the  First  Meeting  of  the  Congressional  Temperance 
Society.  One  small  12mo  vol.  25  cents. 


A  Library  for  Lecturers,  Speakers  and  Others.— Every  Lawyer, 

Clergyman,  Senator,  Congressman,  Teacher,  Debater,  Student,  etc.,  who  desires 
to  be  informed  and  posted  on  the  Rules  and  Regulations  which  govern  Public 
Bodies,  as  well  as  those  who  desire  the  best  books  on  Oratory,  and  the  Art  of  Pub- 
lic Speaking,  should  provide  himself  with  the  following  small  and  carefully  selected 
Library : 

The  Indispensable  Hand-Book.  .$225  The  Exhibition  Speaker  .  .  .$150 
Oratorv.  Sa-i-od  and  Secular  .  .  1  50  Cushinsj's  Manual  of  Parlia.  Practice  75 
The  Right  Word  in  the  Right  Place,  75  The  Culture  of  the  Voice  and  Action  1  75 
The  American  Debater  .  .  .  2  00  Treatise  on  Punctuation  .  .  .  1  75 

One  copy  of  each  sent  by  Express,  on  receipt  of  $10,  or  by  mail,  post-paid,  at  the 
prices  affixed.    Address,  SAMUEL  R.  WELLS,  389  Broadway,  New  York. 


34  SAMUEL  R.  WELLS'  PUBLICATIONS. 


EDUCATIONAL,  WAND-BOOKS. 
Hand-books  for  Home  Improvement  (Educational);    comprising, 

"  How  to  Write,"  "  How  to  Talk,"  "  How  to  Behave,"  and  "  How  to  do  Business," 
in  one  large  volume.    Indispensable.    One  large  12mo  vol.,  647  pp.   Muslin,  $2  23. 

More  than  100,000  copies  of  this  work  have  teen  sold.    A  capital  book  for  agents. 

These  works  may  also  be  had  in  separate  form  as  follows : 

How  to  Write,  A  Pocket  Manual  of  Composition  and  Letter- Writing. 
Invaluable  to  the  Young.  1  vol.  12mo,  136  pp.  Muslin,  75  cents. 

How  to  Talk,  A  Pocket  Manual  of  Conversation  and  Debate,  with 
more  than  Five  Hundred  Common  Mistakes  in  Speaking  Corrected.  1  vol.  12mo, 
156pp.  Muslin,  75  cents. 

How  to  Behave,  A  Pocket  Manual  of  Republican  Etiquette  and  Guide 
to  Correct  Personal  Habits,  with  Rules  for  Debating  Societies  and  Deliberative 
Assemblies.  1  vol.  12mo,  149  pp.  Muslin,  75  cents. 

How  to  do  Business,  A  Pocket  Manual  of  Practical  Affairs,  and  a 
Guide  to  Success  in  Life,  with  a  Collection  of  Legal  and  Commercial  Forms.  Suit- 
able for  all.  1  vol.  12mo,  156  pp.  Muslin,  75  cents. 

The  Right  Word  in  the  Right  Place.— A  New  Pocket  Dictionary 
and  Reference  Book.    Embracing  extensive  Collections  of  Synonyms,  Technical 
Terms,  Abbreviations,  Foreign  Phrases,  Chapters  on  Writing  for  the  Press,  Punc- 
tuation, Proof-Reading,  and  other  Interesting  and  Valuable   Information.    By 
the  Author  of  "  How  to  Write,"  etc.    1  vol.  16mo,  214  pp.    Cloth,  75  cts. 
In  this  little  volume  is  condensed  into  a  small  space,  and  made  available  to  every 
writer,  speaker  and  reader,  what  can  be  found  elsewhere  only  by  consulting  heavy 
volumes  which  few  private  libraries  contain.    The  collection  of  synonyms  contained 
therein,  is  alone  well  worth  the  cost  of  the  whole  volume.    It  is  adapted  particularly 
to  the  wants  of  writers  for  the  press,  and  those  in  whom  the  faculty  of  original  lan- 
guage is  deficient. 


Rural  Manuals,  comprising  "  The  House,"  "  The  Farm,"  "  The  Gar- 

den,"and  "  Domestic  Animals."    In  one  large  12mo  vol.,  655  pp.    Muslin,  $2  25. 

Library  of  Mesmerism  and  Psychology.  Comprising  the  Philoso- 
phy of  Mesmerism,  Clairvoyance,  and  Mental  Electricity ;  Fascination,  or  the 
Power  of  Charming ;  The  Macrocosm,  or  the  World  of  Sense ;  Electrical  Psychol- 
ogy, the  Doctrine  of  Impressions  ;  The  Science  of  the  Soul,  treated  Physiologically 
and  Philosophically.  Two  volumes  in  one.  Handsome  12mo,  880  pp.  Illustrated. 
Muslin,  $4. 

The  Emphatic  Diaglott ;  Or,  the  New  Testament  in  Greek  and  Eng- 
lish. Containing  the  Original  Greek  Text  of  what  is  commonly  called  The  New 
Testament,  with  an  Interlineary  Word-for-word  English  Translation  ;  a  New  Em- 
phatic Version  based  on  the  Interlineary  Translation,  on  the  Readings  of  Eminent 
Critics,  and  on  the  various  Readings  of  the  Vatican  Manuscript  (No.  1,209  in  the 
Vatican  Library) ;  together  with  Illustrative  and  Explanatory  Foot  Notes,  and  a 
copious  Selection  of  References ;  to  the  whole  of  which  is  added  a  valuable  Alpha- 
betical Index.  By  BENJAMIN  WILSON.  One  vol.,  12mo,  884  pp.  Price,  $4 ;  extra 
fine  binding,  $5.  Address,  SAMUEL  R.  WELLS,  389  Broadway,  New  York. 


»  EDUCATION    POMFLETE," 

Education  and  Self-Improvement  Complete.— Comprising  Physiol- 
ogy—Animal and  Mental ;  Self-Culture  and  Perfection  of  Character ;  including  the 
Management  of  Youth ;  Memory  and  Intellectual  Improvement.    Complete  in  one 
large,  well-bound  12mo  volume,  with  855  pp.,  and  upward  of  Seventy  Engravings. 
Price,  pre-paid,  by  mail,  $4.    Address  SAMUEL  R.  WELLS,  889  Broadway,  N.  Y. 
Thia  work  is,  in  all  respects,  one  of  the  best  educational  hand-books  in  the  English 
language.    Any  system  of  education  that  neglects  the  training  and  developing  all  that 
goes  to  make  up  a  MAN,  must  necessarily  be  incomplete.    The  mind  and  body  are  so 
intimately  related  and  connected,  that  it  is  impossible  to  cultivate  the  former  without 
it  is  properly  supplemented  by  the  latter.    The  work  is  subdivided  into  three  depart- 
ments—the first,  devoted  to  the  preservation  and  restoration  of  health  and  the  im- 
provement of  mentality ;  the  second,  to  the  regulation  of  the  feelings  and  perfection 
of  the  moral  character ;  and  the  third,  to  intellectual  cultivation.    "  EDUCATION  COM- 
PLETE "  is  a  library  in  itself,  and  covers  the  ENTIRE  NATURE  OF  MAN.    We  append 
below  a  synopsis  of  the  table  of  contents : 

HEALTH  OP  BODY  AND  POWER  OF  MIND. 

PHYSIOLOGY  —  ANIMAL  AND  MENTAL  HEALTH  —  ITS  LAWS  AND  PRESERVATION. 
Happiness  constitutional ;  Pain  not  necessary  ;  Object  of  all  Education  ;  Reciproca- 
tion existing  between  Body  and  Mind ;  Health  Defined ;  Sickness— not  providential. 


Meals 

CIRCULATION,  RESPIRATION.  PERSPIRATION,  SLEEP. — The  Heart,  its  Structure  and 
Offlce  ;  The  Circulatory  System  ;  The  Lungs,  their  Structure  and  Functions  ;  Respira- 
tion, and  its  importance  ;  Perspiration  ;  Prevention  and  Cure  of  Colds,  and  tbeir  con- 
sequences ;  Regulation  of  Temperature  by  Fire  and  Clothing  ;  Sleep. 

THE  BRAIN  AND  NERVOUS  SYSTEM.— Position,  Function,  and  Structure  of  the 
Brain  ;  Consciousness,  or  the  seat  of  the  soul ;  Function  of  the  Nerves  ;  How  to  keep 
the  Nervous  System  in  Health ;  The  Remedy  of  Diseases ;  Observance  of  the  Laws 
of  Health  Effectual ;  The  Drink  of  Dyspeptics— its  kind,  time  and  quantity ;  Prometion 
of  Circulation ;  Consumption— ita  Prevention  and  Cure  ;  Preventives  of  Insanity,  etc. 

SELF-CULTURE  AND  PERFECTION  OF  CHARACTER. 

CONSTITUENT  ELEMENTS  oil  CONDITIONS  OP  PERFECTION  OF  CHARACTER.— Pro- 
gression a  Law  of  Things — its  application  to  human  improvement ;  Human  perfecti- 
bility,—the  harmonious  action  of  all  the  faculties;  Governing  the  propensities  by  the 
intellectual  and  moral  faculties ;  Proof  that  the  organs  can  be  enlarged  and  diminished ; 
The  proper  management  of  Youth,  etc. 

ANALYSIS  AND  MEANS  OP  STRENGTHENING!  OF  THE  FACULTIES.—  Amativeness ; 
Philoprogenitiveness  ;  Adhesiveness  ;  Union  for  Life  ;  Inhabitiveness  ;  Continuity ; 
Vitatiyeness  ;  Combativeness  ;  Destructiveness,  or  Executiveneas  ;  Alimentiveness  ; 
Aquativeness,  or  Bibativeness  •  Acquisitiveness  ;  Secretiveness ;  Cautiousness:  Ap- 
probativeness ;  Self-Esteem ;  Firmness;  Conscientiousness;  Hope;  Spirituality— 
Marvelousness ;  Veneration;  Benevolence;  Constructiveness ;  Ideality;  Sublimity; 
Imitation  ;  Mirthfulness ;  Agreeableness — with  engraved  illustrations. 

MEMORY  AND  INTELLECTUAL  IMPROVEMENT  APPLIED  TO  SELF- 
EDUCATION. 

CLASSIFICATION  AND  FUNCTIONS  OF  THE  FACULTIES. — Man's  superiority ;  Intellect 
his  crowning  endowment ;  How  to  strengthen  and  improve  the  Memory  ;  Definition, 
location,  analysis  and  means  of  strengthening  the  intellectual  faculties.  INDIVIDUAL- 
ITY. FORM.  SIZE.  WEIGHT.  COLOR.  ORDER.  CALCULATION.  LOCALITY.  EVEN- 
TUALITY. TIME.  TUNE  :  Influence  of  music.  LANGUAGE  :  Power  of  Eloquence  ; 
Good  language.  PHONOGRAPHY  :  its  advantages.  CAUSALITY  :  Teaching  others  to 
think;  Astronomy;  Anatomy  and  Physiology;  Study  of  Nature.  COMPARISON  : 
Inductive  reasoning.  HUMAN  NATURE:  Adaptation. 

DEVELOPMENTS  REQUIRING  FOR  PARTICULAR  AVOCATIONS. — Good  Teachers ;  Clergy- 
men ;  Physicians ;  Lawyers ;  Statesmen  ;  Editors  ;  Authors ;  Public  Speakers ;  Poets  ; 
Lecturers  ;  Merchants  ;  Mechanics  ;  Artists  ;  Painters  ;  Farmers  ;  Engineers  ;  Land- 
lords ;  Printers  ;  Milliners  ;  Seamstressess  ;  Fancy  Workers,  and  the  like. 

Full  and  explicit  directions  are  given  for  the  cultivation  and  direction  of  all  the 
powers  of  the  mind.  Instruction  for  finding  the  exact  location  of  each  organ,  and  its 
relative  size  compared  with  others.  A  new  edition  of  this  great  work  has  been 
recently  printed,  and  may  now  be  had  in  one  volume.  Agents  in  every  neighborhood 
will  be  supplied  in  packages  of  a  dozen  or  more  copies  by  Express,  or  as  Freight,  at  a 
discount.  Single  copies  by  mail.  Address,  SAMUEL  It.  WBLfcfl,  389  Broadway,  N.  Y. 


ORATORY— SACRED  AND  SECULAR; 

Or,  the  EXTEMPORANEOUS  SPEAKER.  Including  a  Chairman's 
Guide.  By  Rev.  WM.  PITTEXGER,  with  an  Introduction  by  lion.  JOHN  A. 
BINGHAM.  A  clear  and  succinct  Exposition  of  the  Rules  and  Methods  01 
practice  by  which  Readiness  in  the  Expression  of  Thought  may  be  ac- 
quired, and  an  acceptable  style,  both  in  composition  and  gesture.  One 
handsome  I2mo  vol.  of  220  pages,  tinted  paper,  post-paid,  $1.50. 

To  "ive  the  reader  a  more  complete  view  of  the  matter  in  this  excellent 
work— the  beet  of  its  class— we  condense  the  following  from  the 

TABLE   OF  CONTENTS. 


PREFACE.  Objects  of  the  Work  stated. 
INTRODUCTION.  By  Hon.  JOHN  A. 
BINGHAM,  Member  of  Congress. 

Part  I.— THE  WRITTEN  AND  EX- 
TEMPORE DISCOURSE  COMPARED— Illus- 
trative Examples.  PREREQUISITES  — 
Intellectual  Competency  ;  Strength  of 
Body  ;  Command  of  Language  ;  Cour- 
age ;  Firmness  ;  Self-reliance.  BASIS  OF 
SPEECH — Thought  and  Emotion  ;  Heart 
Cultivation ;  Earnestness.  ACQUIRE- 
MENTS— General  Knowledge :  of  Bible  ; 
of  Theology ;  of  Men  ;  Method  by  which 
such  Knowledge  may  be  obtained.  CUL- 
TIVATION —  Imagination  ;  Language  ; 
Voice  ;  Gesture,  how  acquired ;  Distin- 
guished Orators  and  Writers. 

P  a  rt  II  .—A  SER*ON.  THE  FOUN- 
DATION FOR  A  PREACHER — Subject :  Ob- 
ject ;  Text ;  Hints  to  Young  Preachers. 
THE  PLAN  —  Gathering  Thought ;  Ar- 
ranging ;  Committing ;  Practical  Sugges- 
tions ;  Use  of  Notes.  PRELIMINARIES 
FOR  PREACHING — Fear  ;  Vigor ;  Open- 
ing Exercises  ;  Requisites  for  a  Success- 
ful Discourse.  THE  DIVISIONS— Intro- 


While other  authors  have  tended  to  excessive  elaboration,  the  writer 
of  this  wo  k  has  striven  to  condense  as  much  as  possible,  and  present  the 
subject  as  succinctly  as  clearness  of  statement  will  permit.  He  brings  to 
his  work  a  mind  matured  by  years  of  experience  in  the  very  field  of  which 
he  treats.  He  is  also  known  in  the  literary  world,  as  the  author  of 
"  Daring  and  Suffering."  The  book  is  published  in  first-class  style,  well 
and  clearly  printed,  and  handsomely  bound.  A  capital  work  for  Agents. 

Address  S.  E.  WELLS  Publisher  389  Broadwav,  IS.  Y. 


duction,  Difficulties  in  Opening ;  Discus- 
sion, Simplicity  and  Directness.  AFTER 
CONSIDERATIONS — Success  ;  Rest  ;  Im- 
provement ;  Practical  Suggestions. 

Part  III,  —SECULAR  ORATSRY.  IN- 
STRUCTIVE ADDRESS— Fields  of  Oratory ; 
Oral  Teaching ;  Lecturing.  MISCELLAN- 
EOUS ADDRESS  —  Deliberative ;  Legal;  j 
Popular ;  Controversial ;  the  Statesman  ; 
the  Lawyer  ;  the  Lecturer ;  the  Orator. 

Part  IV. — EMINENT  SPEAKERS 
DESCRIBED  —  St.  Augustin  ;  Luther ; 
Lord  Chatham ;  William  Pitt ;  Edmund 
Burke;  Mirabeau;  Patrick  Henry; 
Whitefield ;  Wesley  ;  Sidney  Smith  ;  F. 
W.  Robertson  ;  Clay  ;  Bascom  ;  Summer- 
field  ;  Spurgeon  ;  Beecher ;  Anna  E.  Dic- 
kinson ;  John  A.  Bingham  ;  W.  E.  Glad- 
stone ;  Mathew  Simpson  ;  Wendell  Phil- 
lips ;  John  P.  Durbin ;  Newman  Hall, 
and  others. 

Appendix.  —  THE  CHAIRMAN'B 
GUIDE.  How  TO  ORGANISE  AND  CON- 
DUCT PUBLIC  MEETINGS  and  DEBATING 
CLUBS,  in  a  parlimentary  manner. 


SAMUEL  K.  WELLS'  PUBLICATIONS.  27 


AESOP'S   FABLES. 


Style  of  Engraving— THE  FROG  AXD  THE  ox. 

Jlsop's  Fables  Illustrated.— The  People's  Pictorial  Edition.    With 
Seventy  Splendid  Illustrations.    Complete  in  one  vol.,  12mo,  72  pp.    Beautifully 
printed  on  tinted  paper,  bound  in  cloth,  gilt  edges,  beveled  boards,  $1. 
The  following  brief  selections,  from  a  very  numerous  collection  of  notices  of  the 
Press,  show  with  what  favor  this  beautiful  edition  has  been  received. 

The  New  York  Daily  Times  pays :  "  This  attractive  volume  is  very  appropriately 
styled  '  The  People's  Edition.'  The  illustrations  are  numerous,  spirited,  and  well  en- 
graved." 

The  Christian  Intelliqencer  says :  "  The  designs  are  new,  apt,  and  form  a  decided 
feature  of  this  work.  The  artist  has  put  wit  into  his  delineations,  and  the  fables  may 
be  read  in  their  pictorial  representatives. " 

The  Cincinnati  Journal  of  Commerce  says :  "  It  is  an  exceedingly  beautiful  little 
volume,  and  is  well  worthy  of  having  a  place  in  every  house  with  the  family  Bible." 

The  Brooklyn  Union  says  :  "  It  is  one  of  the  best  gift-books  of  the  season." 

The  American  Baptist  says  :  "  It  is  a  neat  volume,  beautifully  illustrated.  It  con- 
tains a  larger  number  of  fables  than  we  have  before  seen  grouped  together  under  the 
n«ne  of  that  great  master." 

The  Rural  Neio  Yorker  savs :  "  The  form,  appearance  and  general  style  of  the  book 
make  it  truly  '  The  People's  Edition,'  as  the  publishers  announce." 

Thg  Mount  Holly  Herald  says :  "  It  is  gotten  up  in  sumptuous  style,  and  illustrated 
with  great  beauty  of  design.  It  will  conduce  to  educate  the  eye  and  elevate  the  taste 
of  the  young  to  the  appreciation  of  the  highest  and  most  perfect  forms  of  grace  and 
bcAuty." 

The  Phrenological  Journal  says  :  "  This  is  a  beautiful  edition  of  the  sayings  of  the 

!'     slave  of  Athens.    The  volume  is  complete,  containing  over  TWO  HUNDRED  FABLES  and 
upward  of   SIXTY  FINE -LINED  WOOD  ENGRAVINGS,  NEARLY  EVERY  PAGE    BEING 
CHARMINGLY  ILLUSTRATED.      IT  19  BEAUTIFULLY  PRINTED  ON  TINTED  PAPER,  BOUND 
|      IK  CLOTH,  WITH   GILT   EDGES,  AND  WELL  CALCULATED  FOR  A  POPULAR  GIFT   TO  OLI) 
AND  YOUNG." 


ON 


"Had  PHONOGRAPHY  been  known  forty  yean  ago,  *t  i 


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The  Complete  Phouographer :  Being  an  Inductive  Exposition  of 
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Graham's  Hand-Book  of  Standard  or  American  Phonography.— 

Presenting  the  Principles  of  all  Styles  of  the  Art,  commencing  with  the  analysis 
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Graham's  First  Standard  Phonographic  Reader.— Written  in  the 

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Graham's  Reporter's  Manual.— A  complete  Exposition  of  the  Re- 
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Graham's  Synopsis  of  Standard  or  American  Phonography,  printed 

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Graham's  Standard  Phonographic  Dictionary ;  Containing  the  Pro- 
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Designed  for  schools  and  private  students.  New  edition.  Price,  $1  25. 

Pitman's  (Benn)  Reporter's  Companion.— A  complete  Guide  to  tlie 
Art  of  Verbatim  Reporting,  designed  to  follow  Pittman's  Manual  of  Phonography. 
Price,  $1  50. 

Pitman's  (Benn)  Phrase  Book,  a  Vocabulary  of  Phraseology.    $1  25. 

Pitman's  (Benn)  Phonographic  Reader.— A  Progressive  series  of 

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Longely's  American  Manual  of  Phonography.— Being  a  complete 

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$125. 

Handsome  Reporting  Cases  for  Phonographic  Copy-Books.    $1. 
Phonographic  Copy-Books. — Double  or  Single  ruled.    Price,  15  cts, 
The  American  Phonetic  Dictionary,  with  Pronouncing  Vocabularies 
of  Classical,  Scriptural,  and  Geographical  Names.   By  DANIEL  S.  SMALLEY.   $4  60. 
Sent,  prepaid,  by  return  of  the  FIRST  MAIL,  on  receipt  of  prices  annexed.    All  let- 
ters should  be  addressed  to  SAMUEL  R.  WELLS,  389  Broadway,  New  York. 


The  Indispensable  Hand-Book, 


How  TO  WRITE— How  TO  TALK— How  TO 
BEHAVE,  A^TD  How  TO  DO  BUSINESS. 

COMPLETE    IN    OTTE    LARGE    VOLUME. 

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formatioD  which  every  one,  old  and  young,  ought  to  have.  It  will  aid  in  attain- 
ing, if  it  does  not  insure,  "  success  in  life."  It  contains  some  600  pages,  elegantly 
bound,  and  is  divided  into  four  parts,  as  follows: 

How  to  Write: 

As  A  MANUAL  OF  LETTER- WRITING  AND  COMPOSITION,  is  FAR  SUPERIOR 

to  the  common  «•  Letter- Writers."  It  teaches  the  inexperienced  how  to  write  Business  Lettert, 
Family  Letters,  Friendly  Letters,  Love  Letters,  Notes  and  Cards,  and  Newspaper  Articles,  and 
how  to  Correct  Proof  for  the  Press.  The  newspapers  have  pronounced  it  "  Indispensable.' 


How  to  Talk: 


No  OTHER  BOOK  CONTAINS  SO  MUCH  USEFUL  INSTRUCTION  ON  THE 
Subject  as  thl«.  It  teaches  how  to  speak  Correctly,  Clearly,  Fluently,  Forcibly,  Eloquently, 
and  Effectively,  in  the  Shop,  in  the  Drawing-Room ;  a  Chairman's  Guide,  to  conduct  Debat- 
ing Societies  and  Public  Meetings ;  how  to  Spell,  and  how  to  Pronounce  all  sorts  of  Words; 
with  Exercises  for  Declamation.  The  chapter  on  "  Errors  Corrected  "  is  worth  the  price  of  the 
volume  to  every  young  man.  "Worth  a  dozen  grammars." 


How  to  Behave: 

THIS  is  A  MANUAL  OF  ETIQUETTE   AND    IT    is    BELIEVED    TO  BE  THE 

best  "MANNERS  BOOK  "  ever  written.  If  you  desire  to  know  what  good  manners  require, 
at  Home,  on  the  Street,  at  a  Party,  at  Church,  at  Table,  in  Conversation,  at  Places  of  Amuse- 
ment, in  Travelling,  in  the  Company  of  Ladies,  in  Courtship,  this  book  will  inform  yon.  It 
is  a  standard  work  on  Good  Behavior. 


How  to  do  Business: 

INDISPENSABLE  IN  THE  COUNTING-ROOM,  IN  THE  STORE,  IN   THE  Snog, 

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Address  >'.  li.  SPELLS.  389  Broadway,  ff.  F. 


THE 


IN  GREEK  AND  ENGLISH, 


THE  EMPHATIC  DIAGLOTT, 

Containing  the  Original  Greek  Text  of  what  is  commonly  called  THE  NEW 
TESTAMENT,  with  an  Interlineary  Word-for-word  English  Translation  ;  a 
New  Emphatic  Version  based  on  the  Interlineary  Translation,  on  the 
Readings  of  Eminent  Critics,  and  on  the  various  Readings  of  the  Vatican 
Manuscript  (No.  1,209  in  the  Vatican  Library)  ;  together  with  Illustra- 
tive and  Explanatory  Foot  Notes,  and  a  copious  Selection  of  References  ; 
to  the  whole  of  which  is  added  a  valuable  Alphabetical  Index       By 
Benjamin  Wilson.     One  vol.,  12mo,  pp.  884.     Price,  84  ;  extra  fine  bind- 
ing, $5.      SAMUEL  R.  WELIS,  Publishe-s,  389  Broadway,  New  York. 
This  valuable  work  is  now  complete.    The  dilierent  renderings  of  various  passages 
in  the  New  Testament  are  the  foundations  on  which  most  of  the  sects  of  Christians 
have  been  built  up.    Without  claiming  absolute  correctness  for  our  author's  new  and 
elaborate  version,  we  present  his  work  so  that  each  reader  may  judge  for  himsell 
whether  the  words  there  literally  translated  are  so  arranged  in  the  common  version  as 
to  express  the  exact  meaning  of  the  New  Testament  writers. 

In  regard  to  Mr.  Wilson's  translation  there  will  doubtless  be  differences  of  opinion 
among  Greek  scholars,  but  having  submitted  it  to  several  for  examination,  their  vir- 
dict  has  been  BO  generally  in  its  favor  that  we  have  no  hesitation  in  presenting  it  to 
the  public. 

We  have  no  desire  for  sectarian  controversy,  and  believe  that  it  is  consequent  chiefly 
upon  misinterpretation,  or  upon  variations  in  the  formal  presentation  of  the  truths  of 
Christianity  as  taught  in  the  New  Testament ;  and  it  is  with  the  earnest  desire  that 
what  appears  crooked  shall  be  made  straight,  that  we  present  this  volume  to  the  care- 
ful consideration  of  an  intelligent  people. 

OI»nVIO]V8    OF1    THE    C3L.EKGY. 

The  following  extracts  from  letters  just  received  by  the  publishers  from  some  of  our 
most  eminent  divines  will  go  far  to  show  in  what  light  the  new  "Emphatic  Diaglott" 
is  regarded  by  the  clergy  in  general : 

From  THOMAS  AISMITAGE,  D.D.,  Pastor 
of  the  fifth  Atmve  Baptist  Church.— 
'"'GENTLEMEN:  I  have  examined  with 
much  care  and  great  interest  the  specimen 
sheets  sent  me  of  'The  Emphatic  Dia- 
glott.' *  *  *  I  believe  that  the  book 
furnishes  evidences  of  purposed  faithful- 
ness, more  than  usual  scholarship,  and  re- 
markable literary  industry.  It  can  not 
fail  to  be  an  important  help  to  those  who 
wish  to  become  better  acquainted  with 
the  revealed  will  of  God.  For  these  rea- 
sons I  wish  the  enterprise  of  publishing 
the  work  great  success." 

From  REV.  JAMES  L.  HODGE,  Pastor  of 
the  First  Mariner's  Baptist  Church,  N.  T. 
— "  I  have  examined  these  sheets  which 
you  design  to  be  a  specimen  of  the  work, 
ind  have  to  confess  myself  much  plen«ed 


with  the  arrangement  and  ability  of  Mr. 
Wilson.  *  *  *  I  can  most  cordially 
thank  Mr.  Wilson  for  his  noble  work,  and 
- 


tlemen,  for  your  Christian  enter- 

nging  the 
public.    I  believe  the  work  will  do  good, 


you,ge 
pris     ' 


ing  the  work  before  the 


and  aid  in  the  better  understanding  of  the 
New  Testament." 

From  SAMUEL  OSGOOD,  D.T).,Neia  York 
City. — "I  have  looked  over  the  specimen 
of  the  new  and  curious  edition  of  the  New 
Testament  which  you  propose  publishing, 
and  think  that  it  will  be  a  valuable  addi- 
tion to  our  Christian  literature.  It  is  a 
w«rk  of  great  labor  and  careful  study, 
and  without  being  sure  of  agreeing 
with  the  author  in  all  his  views,  I  can 
commend  his  book  to  all  lovers  of  Biblical 


LIBRARY 

OP 

MESMEEISM  AND   PSYCHOLOGY. 

COMPLETE  IN  ONE  LARGE  VOLUME. 


"  All  are  but  p»rta  of  out  stupendous  whole, 
WboM  body  nature  Is,  and  God  th«  KU\." 


Comprising  the  PHILOSOPHY  OF  MESMERISM,  CLAIRVOYANCE,  MENTAL  ELEC- 
TRICITT.— FASCINATION,  or  the  Power  of  Charming :  Illustrating  the  Principles 
of  Life  in  connection  with  Spirit  atd  Matter.— THE  MACROCOSM  AND  MICRO- 
COSM, or  the  Universe  Without  and  Universe  Within :  being  an  unfolding  of  the 
plan  of  Creation,  and  the  Correspondence  of  Truths,  both  in  the  World  of  Sense 
and  the  World  of  Soul.— THE  PHILOSOPHY  or  ELECTRICAL  PSYCHOLOGY  ;  the 
Doctrine  of  Impressions ;  including  the  connection  between  Mind  and  Matter ; 
also,  the  Treatment  of  Disease.— PSYCHOLOGY,  or  the  Science  of  the  Soul,  consid- 
ered Physiologically  and  Philosophically ;  with  an  appendix  containing  notes  of 
Mesmeric  and  Psychical  experience,  and  illustrations  of  the  Brain  and  Nervous 
System. 

In  this  LIBRABY  is  embraced  all  the  most  practical  matter  yet  written  on  thesa 
deeply  interesting,  though  somewhat  mysterious,  subjects.  Having  these  works 
at  hand,  the  reader  may  learn  all  there  is  known  of  MESMERISM,  CLAIRVOYANCE, 
BIOLOGY,  and  PSYCHOLOGY.  He  may  also  learn  how  to  produce  results  which  the 
most  scientific  men  have  not  yet  been  able  to  explain.  The  facts  are  here  recorded, 
and  the  practice  or  modus  operandi  given.  In  order  to  give  an  idea  of  the  scope 
of  the  work,  we  append  a  brief  synopsis  of  the  table  of  contents : 

Charming — How  to  Charm ;  Fascination ;  Double  Life  of  Man ;  Spiritual  States ; 
Stages  in  Dying ;  Operation  of  Medicine ;  What  is  Prevision,  or  Second  Sight  ? 
Philosophy  of  Somnambulism ;  History  of  Fascination ;  Beecher  on  Magnetism ; 
Electrical  Psychology— ita  Definition  and  Importance  in  Curing  Disease ;  Mind 
and  Matter ;  The  Existence  of  a  Deity  Proved ;  Subject  of  Creation  Considered ; 
The  Doctrine  of  Impressions ;  The  Seen  t  Revealed,  so  that  all  may  know  how  to 
Experiment  without  an  Instructor ;  Electro-Biology ;  Genetology,  or  Human  Beauty 
Philosophically  Considered;  Philosophy  of  Mesmerism;  Animal  Magnetism; 
Mental  Electricity,  or  Spiritualism ;  The  Philosophy  of  Clairvoyance ;  Degrees  in 
Mesmerism ;  Psychology ;  Origin,  Phenomena,  Physiology,  Philosophy  and  Psychol- 
ogy of  Mesmerism ;  Mesmeric  and  Physical  Experience ;  Clairvoyance  as  applied 
to  Physiology  and  Medicine ;  Trance,  or  Spontaneous  Ecstasies ;  The  Practice 
and  Use  of  Mesmerism  and  Circles ;  The  Doctrine  of  Degrees ;  Doctrine  of  Cor- 
respondences ;  Doctrine  of  Progressive  Development ;  Law  Agency  and  Divine 
Agency ;  Providences,  etc.,  etc.,  with  other  interesting  matter. 

The  LIBRARY  contains  several  works  by  different  authors,  making  some  Nine 
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FOI\    PHYSICAL    TRAINING. 

BACON'S  PATENT  HOME  GYMNASIUM. 


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Many  attempts  have  been  made  to  con- 
ch would  overcome  these  difficulties, 
and  this  we  now  claim  to  have  accomplished  in  our 
PATENT  HOME  GYMNASIUM.  It  is  based  on  the  prin- 
ciples devised  and  taught  by  Ling,  Schreber,  and  Dio 
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Names  of  the  Faculties. 

1.  AM  ATIVENEBS.— Connubial  love,  fondness,  affection.      » 
A.  CONJUGAL  LOVE.— Union  for  life,  pairing  instinct.  \ 

2.  PABENTAL  LOVE. — Care  of  offspring,  and  all  young. 
8,  FRIENDSHIP.— Sociability,  union  of  friends. 

4. INHABITIVKNESS. — Love  of  home  and  country. 
6.  CONTINUITY.— Application,  consecutiveuesg. 
K.  ViTATIviNKse.— Clinging  to  life,  repelling  disease.      22.  IMITATION.— Copying,  aptitude. 
«.  COMBATIVKNEBS.— Defense,  resolution,  courage.         23.  MIRTH.— Pun,  wit,  ridicule,  facetionmetfc 
DESTRUCTIVENESB.— E«cut!veiiess,  severity.  24.  INDIVIDUALITY.— Observation,  desire  to  m. 

ALIMENTIVENESS. — Appetite,  relish,  feeding,  greed.      25.  FORM. — Memory,  shape,  looks,  persons. 


ACQUISITIVENESS.— Frugality,  saving,  thrift. 
1     SECRETIVENKSS.— Self-control,  policy. 
1     CAUTIOUSNESS.— Guardedness,  safety. 
1      ApPBOBATivExicss.-Love  of  applause. 
11.  SELF-ESTEEM. -Self-respect,  dignity. 

14.  FIBMNESS.— Stability,  perseverance. 

15.  CONSCIENTIOUSNESS. — Sense  of  right. 

16.  HOPE.— Expectation,  anticipation. 

IB.  VKNEBATION.— Worship,  adoration. 
16.  B«NKVOLENCB.— Sympathy,  kindness. 
80.  CONBTBUCTIVESEBB.— Ingenuity,  Invention. 
51.  IDEALITY.—  Taste,  love  of  beauty,  poetry. 
B.  SUBLIMITY. — Love  of  the  grand,  vast. 


26.  SIZE.— Meannremeut  of  quantity,  distance. 

27.  WKIGHT.— Control  of  motion,  balancing. 
2?.  COLOB.— Discernment,  and  love  of  color. 

29.  ORDER.— Method,  system,  going  by  rule. 

30.  CALCULATION.— Mental  arithmetic. 

31.  LOCALITY.— Memory  of  place,  position. 

32.  EVENTUALITY. — Memory  of  facts,  eveot«. 
S3.  TIME.— Telling  when,  time  of  day,  dates. 
34.  TUNE.— Love  of  music,  singing. 

85.  LAHOUAQB.— Expreuion  by  words,  act«. 

86.  CAUSALITY.— Planning,  thinking. 
S7.  COMPARISON.— tAualyais,  inferring. 

C.  HUMAN  NATURV. — Perception  of  character. 

D.  SUAVITY.- 


BIFLASATIOS.— No. 
siveness,  by  two  sisters 


Amatlveness  IB  represented  by  Cupid,  with  his  bow  and  arrow.  No.  S.  Adh»- 
mbracing.  No.  6.  Combatlveness— perverted— by  two  boye  contending.  No.  a. 
Acquisitiveness,  a  miter  counting  his  gold.  No.  10.  Secretiveness,  by  a  cat  watching  for  a  mouse.  B. 
Sublimity,  Niagara  Falls.  24.  Individuality,  a  boy  with  a  telescope.  31.  Locality,  by  a  traveler  consulting 

lion,  devotion,  and  deference,  respect,  and  prayer.  19.  Benevolence,  the  Good  Samaritan  bestowing  char- 
ity. No.  17.  Spirituality,  Moses,  on  Mount  Sinai,  receiving  the  tablets  from  Heaven  on  which  were  *n- 
graved  the  Ten  Commandments.  16.  Hope,  the  anchor,  and  a  ship  at  sea.  15.  Conscientiousness,  Figurs 
of  Justice,  with  the  scales  in  one  hand  anu  the  sword  in  the  other,  and  so  forth.  Each  organ  Is  represented 

«er  Is  s»own  in  the  cas«-of  the  miser,  the  glnttons,  and  the  fighting  boys.  It  is  u»ed  as  a  means  of  Indi- 
cating both  the  location  of  the  organs  and  to  show  their  natural  action  a>  frequently  exhibited  lu  life. 


[Tivrt  ^12  r3.i  ler  may  jai.je  of  tho  value  of  *!n-i  c  ;r>!t:i!  II  VXD  BOOK,  we  append  tha 
Table  of  Contents  for  the  different  years,  from  number  one,  as  follows :] 

CONTENTS 

OF 

The  Illustrated  Annuals  of  Phrenology  &  Physiognomy, 

FOB 

1865 


Introduction. 
Physiognomy  Illustrated. 

Palmer,  the  English  Poisoner. 
A  Good  Hint. 

Debate"in  Crania. 

Self-Reliance—  A  Poem. 

A  Young  Hero. 

Our  Museum. 

Fighting  Physiognomies  Illustrated. 
The  Coior  of  the  Eye. 
The  Five  Races  of  Man  Illustrated. 

The  Bliss  of  Giving. 
An  Almanac  for  a  Hundred  Years. 
The  World  to  Come. 

Great  Men  used  to  Weigh  More. 
A  Word  to  Boys. 

Signs  of  Character  in  the  Eves. 
Where  to  Find  a  Wife. 

Lines  on  a  Human  Skull. 

General  Information. 

1866. 

Andrfiw  Johnson. 

Fate  of  the  Twelve  Apostles. 

Abraham  Lincoln. 

Two  Qualities  of  Men. 

Julius  Caesar. 

Home  Courtesies. 

Character  in  the  Walk. 

Cornelius  Vanderbilt. 

The  Mother  of  Rev.  John  Wesley. 

Language  of  the  Eyes, 

Character  in  the  Eves. 
Practical  Uses  of  Phrenology. 
Stammering  and  Stuttering—  A  Cure. 

Phrenology  and  Physiology. 
Brigham  Young. 
Richard  Cobden. 

Lieut.-Gen.  Ulvsses  8.  Grant. 
The  Red  Man  and  the  Black  Man. 

Phrenology  at  Home. 
Major-Gen.  Wm.  T.  Sherman. 

Heada  of  the  Leading  Clergy. 
Heads  of  the  Most  Notorious  Boxers. 

John  Bright—  With  PonixiU. 

1867. 

Names  of  the  faculties. 

Fronde,  the  Historian. 

Hindoo  Heads  and  Characters. 

Thiers,  the  French  Statesman. 

About  Fat  Folks  and  Lean  Folks. 

John  Ruskin-the  Art-Writer. 

Immortality—  Scientific  Proofs. 
Thos.  Carlylc,  the  Author. 

Rev.  Charles  Kingsley. 
A  Chartered  Institution. 

How  to  Study  Phrenolor^'. 
The  Jew—  Racial  Peculiarities. 
Civilization  and  Beauty. 
The  Hottentot  or  Bushman. 

Significance  of  Shaking  Hands. 
Wanted—  Competent  Phrenologists. 
Bashfnlness  —  Diffidence  —  Timidity. 
Cause  and  Cure. 

Nursing  Troubles. 
A  Bad  Head—  Antoine  Probst. 

Eminent  American  Clergymen. 
The  Spiritual  and  Physical. 

Forming  Societies  —  How  to  Proceed. 
Matrimonial  Mistakes. 
Somethiag  About  Handwriting. 
How  to  Conduct  Public  Meetings. 
Author  of  the  "  Old  Arm  Chair." 

Large  Eves. 
Ira  Aldridge,  the  Colored  Tragedian. 
Influence  of  Marriage  on  Morals. 
The  Bones  of  Milton. 
New  York  Society  Classified. 

Rev.  James  Martineau,  the  Unitarian. 

To-Day—  A  Poem. 

Dr.  Pusey,  the  "  High-Churchman." 

1868. 

A   Brief   Glossary   of  Phrenological 

Rev.  Peter  Cartwright,  the  Pioneer 

Terms. 

Preacher. 

Advancement  of  Phrenology. 
Circassia,  and  the  Circassians. 

Victor  Hugo,  the  Romancist. 
Miss  Braddon,  the  Sensational  Novelist. 

Jealousv—  Its  Cause  and  Cure. 
Temperament  and  Natural  Languages. 
Voices—  What  they  Indicate. 
The  Rulers  of  Sweden. 

How  to  Become  a  Phrenologist. 
Monsieur  Tonson  Come  Again. 
Mind  Limited  by  Matter. 
The  Two  Paths  of  Womanhood. 

Marriasre  of  Cousins—  Its  Effects. 

Cause  of  111  Health. 

Georec  Peabodv.  the  Banker. 

Bismarck,  the  Prussian  Premier. 

What  Makes  a  Man  ? 
Senator  Wilson.  American  Statesman. 

To  Phrenological  Students. 
General  Business  Matters. 

Bad  Heads  and  Good  Characters. 

New  Books  from  our  Press 

D'Israeli,  the  English  Statesman. 
Young  Men. 

Phrenology  and  Its  Uses. 
Testimonials  from  Distinguished  Men. 

£•>••&  by  2ist  post  lor  oo  cts. 

SECOND   EDITION    NOW    READY. 

THE 

HISTORY  OF  A  MOUTHFUL  OF  BREAD 

AND  ITS  EFFECT  OX  THE  ORGANIZATION  OF  MEN  AND  ANIMALS. 


TRANSLATED  FROM  TUB  SEVENTEENTH  FRENCH  EDITION. 


Among  the  Topics  discussed  in  this  most  useful  Work,  are  the  following: 

Man. — The  Hand — the  Tongue — the  Teeth — the  Throat — the  Stomach — 
Intestinal  Canal — the  Liver — the  Chyle — the  Heart — the  Arteries — 
Nourishment  of  the  Organs — Arterial  and  Venous  Blood — Atmospheric 
Pressure — Action  of  the  Lungs — Carbon  and  Oxygen  Combustion — 
Animal  Heat — Carbonic  Acid — Nutrition,  etc. 

Animals. —  Classification  — Mammalia.  Aves  —  BIRDS.  Eeptilia — KEP- 
TiLKs.  Pisces — FISHES.  Insecta — I.VSECTS.  Crustacea — Moluska.  Vermes 
— WORMS.  Zoophyta — ZOOPUYTLS.  The  Nourishment  of  Plants,  etc. 

"Fascinating  in  its  form,  and  in  its  moral  ,  "  This  book  has  reached  its  eighth  edi- 
anrt  religious  tone  above  all  praise." — Lon-  j  tion  on  the  other  side  of  the  Channel, 
don  Review.  having  been  adopted  by  the  University 


This  work  explains  in  a  manner  both 
intelligible  and  interesting,  •  the  history  of 
life  as  sustained  and  supported  in  the  hu- 
man race.'  " — Dispatch. 

"  Written  in  a  reverent  spirit,  deserving 
of  commendation.1'— John  BuU. 

"  To  Mrs.  Gatty  great  praise  is  due.  .  .  . 
The  translation  seems  excellent.  A  charm 


Commission  of  Paris  amonf  their  prize 
books."— Athtnaum. 

"  The  authors  illustrations  are  ample, 
and  in  the  highest  degree  ingenious,  often 
presenting  a  familiar  subject  in  a  fresh 
light,  and  clearing  up  difficulties  which 
more  elaborate  scientific  works  have  over- 
looked."— Tribune. 


ing  book."—  Church  Review.  "  The  careful  study  of  this  book  will  be 

"  It  exhibits  the  honest  pains,  the  desire  i  of  much  benefit  to  teachers,  and  it  is  re- 
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characterise  all  Mrs.  Gatty  undertakes  for  |  Libraries."— i.  Von  Sofchelin,  Sup't  Pub- 
the  acceptance  of  the  public." — Press.  >  lie  Instruction  for  Maryland. 


PUBLISHED   BY 

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Sold  Wholesale  and  Retail  by  all  Newsmen  and  Booksellers. 

In  One  Volume,  12mo,  Fancy  Cloth,  Beveled  Edges.    Price  $2. 

Sent  by  mail,  prepaid,  by  the  Publisher,  on  receipt  of  price. 


BY  THE  SAME  AUTHOR, 


THE  SERVANTS  OF  THE  STOMACH, 

A  SEQUEL  TO  "THE  HISTORY  OF  A  MOUTHFUL  OF  BREAD." 

IN  ONE  VOLUME,  I-'MO.  PKIC2  *1  75. 


A   FIRST-CLASS   MONTHLY.    S.  R.  WELLS,  Editor. 

Devoted  to  Ethnology,  Physiology,  Phrenology,  Psychology,  Sociology,  Education,  Art, 

Literature,  with  measures  to  Reform,  Elevate  and  Improve  Mankind 

Physically  and  Spiritually. 

The  Study  and  Improvement 

of  Man  in  all  his  Conditions  and  Rela- 
tions, of  Body  and  Mind  ia  our  object. 
The  Natural  History  of  Man— 

Includi       " 
and 


iding  Manners,  Customs,  Religions 
Modes  of  Life  in  different  Families, 
Tribes  and  Nations,  will  be  given  with  il- 
lustrative engravings-. 

Physiology,  the  Laws  of  Life  and 
Health,  including  Dietetics,  Exercise, 
Sleep,  Study,  Bodily  Growth,  etc.,  will  be 
presented  in  a  popular  manner  on  strictly 
Hygienic  principles. 

Phrenology. — The    Brain   and   its 


Functions,  tho 


•gy.-'J 
Tempo 


raments,Location  of 


Character  of  our  most  distinguished  pub- 
lic men,  given  in  each  number. 

Marriage  forma  a  part  of  the  life  o 
every  well-organized  human  being.  The 
elements  of  love  are  inborn.  The  objects  of 
Marriage  stated.  All  young  people  require 
instruction  and  direction  in  the  selection 
of  suitable  life-companions.  Phr 
throws  light  on  the  subject.  Let  us 
it.  "  Be  ye  not  unequally  yoked." 

The  Choice  of  Pursuits. — How 

to  select  a  pursuit  to  which  a  person  is 
best  adapted ;  Law,  Medicine,  Divinity, 
Invention,  Mechanics,  Agriculture,  Manu- 
facturing, Commerce,  etc.,  "Let  us  be  sure 
to  put  the  right  man  in  the  right  place." 

Miscellaneous.— Churches,  Schools, 
Prisons,  Asylums,  Hospitals,  Reformato- 
ries, etc.,  described,  with  Modes  of  Wor- 
ship, Education,  Training  and  Treatment, 
given  in  every  number  of  the  PHRENOLOGI- 
CAL JOURNAL  AND  LIFE  ILLUSTRATED. 
Terms.— A  New  Volume,  the  47th, 

— .  — f commences    January,    1808.      Published 

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Physiognomy  :  or,  "  The  Human 
Face  Divine,"  with  "  Signs  of  Character 
and  How  to  Read  Them"  scientifically. 

The  Human  Soul  — Psychol- 
ogy.—Its  Nature,  Oflice  and  Condition  in 
Life  and  Death:  Man's  Spiritual  State  in 
the  Here  and  in  the  Hereafter.  Very  in- 
teresting and  vitally  important. 


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